


Credit Such a Monstrous Tale

by Anonymous



Category: Original Work
Genre: Anal Sex, Anal Use of Dildo, Arranging an Alibi for Murder, Blood Drinking, Eating from Dog Food Bowl, Homophobia, Humiliation, Leg Humping, Locked in the Basement, M/M, Master/Pet, Memory Wipe, Mind Control, Mind Controlled to Pretend to Be a Dog, Obedience Training in Russian, Oral Use of Dildo, Partial Mind Control, Piercing, Play Fetch, Straight Man Mind Controlled to Want Sex with a Male Vampire, Training with Shock Collar, Vampires, Victim Unaware of Mind Control, Visit to the Veterinarian, Walk on a Leash, Washed Down with a Hose, Wearing Ears and Tail, blowjob, enema, spanking for punishment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-08
Updated: 2019-07-08
Packaged: 2020-05-12 05:48:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 24,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19222879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: A vampire must hunt humans and drink their blood to survive. But survival, alone, only ensures unending tedium...He often, therefore, finds ways to entertain himself at his prey's expense. Any man who annoys him and who he finds attractive is at risk. But this one becomes more than just a snack... he's a whole weekend's worth of entertainment as the vampire finds a series of fun and horrific games to play with his new pet. Will he finish him off at the end, or save him for more games later? Even a powerful, old vampire does not know the future until it happens.





	1. From a Thousand Chosen Forth

**Author's Note:**

  * For [chicago_ruth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chicago_ruth/gifts).



> Work title and chapter titles are taken, completely out of context, from Act II of the verse play _Otho the Great_ by John Keats.

The vampire sat at the bar. The unassuming clothing of the present day that he wore was ugly and chafed. It was the camouflage of a predator, and the thronging humans who chattered and bought drinks were, unknown to them, his prey.

"They've got it lucky," a brown-haired man in a football jersey complained. He drank half a beer in one long series of swallows and set his glass down unsteadily. "Get laid anytime, no whining afterward. Right?" 

"Eh. I wouldn't want to put up with the shit." A blond man in a partially unbuttoned oxford shirt next to him disagreed. 

The one on the other side, dark skinned and curly haired, slapped the blond man on the arm. "Get it?"

One of these might serve. The vampire walked past them, taking what he could without their noticing. One of the tools of the predator was speed. The vampire was capable of movements too fast for humans to see. 

He looked at the wallet he'd stolen from the blond man. Money, business cards, pictures of children. Probably be missed; not the best choice. Not the best looking of them, either; his eyes were too close together, his lips too thin. 

The vampire strolled past again, the other direction, stopped just behind the one in the football jersey. "You dropped this," he said to the blond businessman, holding out the wallet.

"What the fuck? Thank you," the man said. He sounded sincere in his gratitude as well as annoyed at his own failure to notice his wallet had been missing. 

Another tool of the predator was his ability to turn spoken words into compelling. The vampire could make a statement that held sway over the mind of a human. It required focus, but if a human heard him speak a compelling, that human's mind did all it could to make what he had said into truth. 

" **I'll take my thanks in cash** ," the vampire said. 

The blond pulled a small stack of bills out of his wallet and handed them to the vampire. The vampire stood there, counting his take. Hundred and fifty, not bad.

"Wow, man," the dark one said. "You must really be blitzed." He laughed.

"You were saying?" the vampire prompted the brown-haired man who still had half his beer sitting in front of him. "Something about who's lucky to get laid anytime?"

"Gay guys," with a shrug, "and chicks too, I guess. Cause there's always men who are down for a fuck." 

The vampire shifted his position to get a better look at this potential prey. Dark brown, puppy-dog eyes, and full lips: this one, he decided. "Are you one? You can come home with me, if you like."

The full lips twisted in disdain, or was that disgust? The vampire wasn't sure, and didn't particularly like either. That would have to change. The man in the football jersey muttered something quite rude about what he imagined the vampire's sexual preference to be. 

That it was accurate was beside the point. " **You'll tell me your name** ," the vampire said softly, leaning close so only the brown-haired man heard the compelling. 

"Craig Maughan," he said clearly. 

"Craig. Well, Craig, you aren't interested in men, that's clear enough, but **you find me very attractive**. So let's cut the crap." His words were crisp. All three men stared at him, and even a few others, the bartender included. The vampire didn't mind. 

"I don't," Craig said. But he didn't sound at all sure.

" **You certainly do,** " the vampire purred. "Now, **the rest of you, everyone but Craig here, find me completely boring and uninteresting. You have no reason to discuss me anymore, or to wonder why Craig decided to take me up on my invitation**." 

The interest faded away in their eyes, and the bar returned to its previously scheduled distractions of booze, televised sports and shit talking.

The vampire took Craig's hand and led him out of the bar into the cool night air. The stars shone, on a clear new moon night, as best they could from behind the street lamps' glare. "This will be fun," the vampire said.

"I've never," Craig said, and stopped, unsure what to say next. 

"There's a first time for everything," the vampire said cheerfully. "Are you parked around here? **You will show me where your car is, if it's nearby**." 

Craig led the way to his not especially new Corolla. It was dark red with faint glitter in the paint. The vampire liked the color right away. Craig unlocked the car, got into the driver's seat, and by the time he was starting the car, the vampire was in the passenger seat beside him, leaning close, caressing the man's arm with a cool hand. Craig took a deep, uneven breath, and shifted in the seat uncomfortably. "I don't … you can just get out of my car, now."

" **You don't want me to get out of your car** ," the vampire said. " **You want to drive us to my place, and try to fuck me**."

Craig swallowed. The vampire thought he could see the desires he'd made Craig feel warring with his self-image up to that evening. This was fun, he thought. And he'd barely got started.

The vampire gave Craig his address. Craig input it into the car's GPS and they were on their way. 

The vampire's house, the one he was having Craig drive him to, was some distance from the bar where he'd picked Craig up. He hadn't been there in several months, but he paid a cleaning service to keep it in good shape. They'd need supplies, the vampire thought. If he was going to keep Craig there for the weekend, it would be best if he had food for the man to eat. 

There would be a grocery store, and they could make a quick stop to pick up a few things. "What are some of your favorite foods, Craig?" the vampire asked. 

"Steak, french fries, potato chips," Craig said immediately. "Peanut butter cookies. And chocolate." The vampire thought he could work with that. 

" **You'll use your device to find a grocery store, and stop.** We should buy some food. Some of your favorite foods, in case you get hungry while you're visiting me." The vampire rested his hand on Craig's thigh, his forefinger stroking idly over the leg of the man's jeans.

One hand on the wheel, the other punching changes into the GPS, Craig showed himself to have excellent dexterity and multitasking skills. The vampire approved. He also approved of the evidence provided by the growing bulge in Craig's jeans of both the man's arousal and his endowment.

"What were your plans for the weekend, before you met me? **You'll cancel them** , of course." The vampire needed to make sure Craig would not be missed. He wasn't so careless as to allow problems of that sort to interfere with his enjoyment of his latest catch.

As he drove to the grocery store, Craig filled the vampire in on what would have been a boring weekend of hanging out with his friends, visiting his sister and her family, and possibly trying to pick up women. Nothing to cancel, really, but the family visit, and that could easily be managed by text, in this modern age. There was much to appreciate in smartphones, the vampire mused, who had been stealing men's weekends since before the telephone was invented. The return of human contact to the written word was one he appreciated. The years of needing to speak directly to another person to change plans had not been as much to the vampire's taste.

Craig parked his red Toyota in the grocery store parking lot. He texted his sister that he wouldn't be able to make it to dinner on Sunday after all, that an invitation out of town had come up and he would tell her more when he saw her the following week. The vampire found the message satisfactory and had Craig send it, then turn his device off. He would not need it anymore, and the vampire didn't want his attention distracted.

" **For tonight and tomorrow night, only I am important to you, Craig**." The vampire made this clear before they entered the grocery store. " **You will try your utmost to win my favor, because you want so very much to fuck me**." The vampire smiled a sultry smile, caressing Craig's cheek with the knuckles of his loose fist. 

Craig shivered. The vampire thought it pleasure. He did not mind if it were with some other emotion, though. Perhaps the pleasure was mixed with fear, with confusion, with expectation and anxiety to please. That would be perfect. "I don't, I mean, it's not my thing, but you're so…" 

This inability of Craig's to speak in proper sentences, the vampire found annoying. "Don't stammer, it isn't attractive," he scolded, his voice more gentle than his words. " **You can say what you're thinking to me**."

"I want to fuck you in the ass," Craig said. "And I want to do whatever you tell me. And I want you to tell me to fuck you in the ass." The man blinked, surprised to hear the words come out of his mouth so plainly. "But I didn't want to say, it sounds so skeevy."

"So crude, so needy," the vampire murmured. "I know that's what you want. We're going to have so much fun, you and I." The vampire indulged himself to run his tongue along Craig's jawline, tasting the salt of his sweat and the bitter tang of his aftershave. 

~~~

The vampire paid for the groceries and other items with the blond businessman's money. Craig carried the bags to his car, put them in the trunk, and they drove the rest of the way to the vampire's house.

The single story home had a well kept front lawn and a back yard surrounded by a high fence. Trees showed in the yard, trimmed neatly, towering over the fence, making it nearly impossible to see into from neighboring houses, even in the daytime. The vampire did not care for nosy neighbors. He unlocked his house and went inside. 

It was always better to bring a new guest to a house he owned. The vampire had no worries about invitations that way. There were rules, and a vampire's invitation into a human's home had to be made of their own free will. The vampire did not like to be around humans in their own homes who were in full possession of free will. He had not survived for centuries by being so lax with his personal safety.

This habit did expose the locations of his residences to individuals who might, in some possible situations, wish him harm. But overall he felt it was necessary to spice up the tedium of the long years, to allow himself some entertainment beyond what was necessary to continued existence. 

Rather than enter through the front door, the vampire used his key on the padlock of the gate to the back yard, then escorted Craig through a winding stone path between bushes and trees to a patio and a sliding glass door. He unlocked this as well with another key on his ring, and slid it open. "Put the groceries away," the vampire told Craig, taking the newspaper from the top of one of the bags Craig carried and gesturing the man toward the kitchen. He assumed the man would do these simple things out of the desire to please he had already instilled, and it did not matter much to the vampire if the human food spoiled and was wasted.

While Craig put the grocery bags down on the kitchen floor, the vampire set the newspaper on a side table in the parlor and went into the master bedroom of the house to take off his hunting clothes at last. It was a relief to be out of them. He found a comfortable silk robe in the closet, pulled it on and tied it around his waist.

This human had made remarks the vampire found offensive; this human was easy on the eyes, and healthy enough to feed on; this human had certainly shown potential for obedience and humiliation already. The vampire was already picking and choosing among the ideas he had to indulge his jaded tastes with his latest catch. Allowing the human a little bit of rein to choose between two enjoyable options added yet another bit of spice to the game. 

But it seemed the choice of obedience was already made. The vampire could hear the human doing as he was told in the kitchen. Craig put items into the refrigerator and freezer and onto shelves and with a clatter set the dog dishes and dog toys on the counter next to the sink.

The vampire opened his equipment cabinet and looked over its contents, touching this item and that, opening drawers to refresh his memory of their contents and where he would be able to find the items he needed without having to delay his gratification for a search. 

He chose a supple leather collar with enough snaps to fit nearly any size neck and a realistically sized dildo. No point rushing things; he had the rest of tonight and then the next night to fill. Placing these items into a small drawstring bag, the vampire returned to his parlor.

Craig was sitting on the sofa, nervously tapping one of his fingers against his leg. "Oh, there you are--" Craig said as the vampire came into his sight. "Wait, I don't know your name," he added.

"No, you don't," the vampire agreed. 

"But what should I call you?"

The vampire considered. "I am properly styled 'your grace,' Craig," he said after a while. "You may address me so." He left it up to the man; he did not particularly care, and soon enough the man would not be speaking much, anyway. 

"What?" The man's tone was more confusion than anything else. 

The vampire laughed. It was not as if any human court still endured that remembered his dukedom. And it had not meant that much to him even at the time. Nobility was a vain pretense.

" **You will come and kneel in front of me** ," the vampire compelled.

Craig awkwardly got on his knees at the edge of the rug. He looked into the vampire's colorless eyes, desire burning in his dark brown ones. 

"Is your cock hard, Craig?" the vampire asked.

Craig nodded.

"Take it out and show me." The vampire was, again, unsure if the man would obey this command or not. Was the desire he'd compelled enough? He expected it to be, but there was a chance. Partial control was sometimes more exciting than complete, because of the chance of the unexpected.

There was hesitation. The man's dark eyes looked up with a wordless question.

"You certainly won't be able to fuck me with your pants on," the vampire said. "I might be aroused by seeing your cock, don't you think? You probably ought to do what I ask." It went along with the compelling to try to win the vampire's favor, to try to seduce him. 

The man unbuckled his pants and pushed them down. He had white briefs on, and he fumbled with the panel on the front. The vampire's lips pressed together, but this was technically obedience and for now he was not interested in fully controlling the man, but seeing how far he would go to pursue the overwhelming desire the vampire had placed upon him.

Craig had his cock in his hand and it was well proportioned and fully erect, though cut. An intact foreskin would have been preferable, but otherwise the vampire was pleased. "That will do," he said. "Stroke it a few times, Craig. Show me how you would begin to pleasure yourself." Craig's hand curled around his cock, slid up and down, pulling loose skin with it a short way. His breath came faster. A bead of moisture formed at the tip. "Good boy. That's enough. Hands off, now." Craig stopped masturbating, and reached to put his cock back into his briefs. "No," the vampire said. Craig froze. "Did I say to put it away?" the vampire asked.

"No," Craig said. "Er. Your grace." The vampire almost laughed at that. "But I'm just hanging out here, you don't really want…?"

"Hanging out, yes," the vampire said. "Now, I'd like to see your body, Craig. Why don't you take your shirt off?"

With a glance at his cock, which was, as he'd said, still just "hanging out," Craig nodded and then pulled the football jersey over his head. He repeated the motion with the white t-shirt he'd had on under it. His chest was well muscled, with curling hair a shade darker than the brown hair on his head. The vampire thought perhaps it was a pleasant preview of the pubic hair that was still hidden in the man's briefs. Craig's nipples stood out, more pink than brown, stiff with arousal like his cock. 

"Do you ever pinch your nipples, Craig?" the vampire asked. "When you pleasure yourself?" 

Craig shrugged. "I guess I might have? I usually just go to town with my hand while watching porn," he said.

"I have no porn for you to watch," the vampire told him. 

"There's you," Craig said. He bit his lip. "I wouldn't need porn if I was looking at you. Your grace."

The vampire couldn't help smiling. "I don't suppose you would, at that. But I'd like to see you pinch your nipples. Get a good grip on them," he added, as Craig was gingerly touching his thumb and forefinger to each nipple. "Pinch hard enough that they won't just slide out. Now pull." The nipples did slide out from Craig's weak grip. "Like this," the vampire said, leaning forward and taking one of Craig's nipples in demonstration. He squeezed and pulled, stretching the nipple probably further than Craig ever had. The man gasped, and the vampire let go. "Now you do that," he directed.

Craig squinted at the vampire, covered his nipples with the palm of his hand, and winced. "That kind of hurt," he said. 

"That didn't even begin to hurt," the vampire told him. "But you're willing to be hurt, aren't you? In order to entice me to let you fuck me? If that's what I want?"

The man hesitated, but nodded. "I'll do anything," he said fervently. But the vampire knew that he meant it only in the shallowest way. The compelling would make it true, but not easy.

"You say that, but you wouldn't even pinch your nipples for me." The vampire looked down at the kneeling man skeptically. "I don't imagine you've ever had a man's cock in your mouth?"

Craig shook his head no. He pressed his lips together tightly, as if that would keep his mouth safe from such unwanted intrusion. 

The vampire raised his hand to touch the man's lips, pressed fingertips to them, between them, showing the man how futile his wordless protest would be. "I'd like to watch you suck a man off." He paused, imagining, enjoyed the way Craig recoiled without breaking the contact between his lips and the vampire's fingers, physical desire he had been compelled to feel battling years of indoctrination in the shamefulness of cocksucking. 

"For now I have the next best thing." The vampire opened his string bag and drew out the dildo. It had a suction cup backing so it could be attached to a surface. The vampire held it in front of Craig's mouth backward. "Lick this for me. Nice and wet," he added.

Once the suction surface was wet, the vampire set the dildo into place on the floor where it stuck with a wet sucking sound. The vampire tugged at it and made sure it was firmly anchored. "Practice on this," the vampire told Craig, envisioning the picture the man would be, posed as if in obeisance to an emperor, face nearly kissing the floor. "Give it a blow job, the kind you like getting yourself." 

Craig opened his mouth to say something. The vampire thought it might be a complaint, but when his eyes met Craig's, he saw the man's resolve crumble. Craig looked up at the vampire again with a pleading expression that met the vampire's firm one and turned to determination. He bent to put his mouth on the dildo, placing one hand flat on the floor on either side of the toy. 

The vampire sat back down on the sofa, where his angle was better to watch Craig begin, on hands and knees, to bob up and down as he sucked the dildo. "What a picture you look with your face on the floor and your ass in the air," the vampire said, enjoying the scene for several minutes until Craig stopped what he was doing and sat back on his heels, panting. 

The man rubbed at the corner of his jaw, the base of his ear. "It's getting sore here, your grace," he said.

"Is that how you like blow jobs?" the vampire asked, an edge in his idle tone. "Interrupted by complaints?"

"It's not like that piece of plastic will mind," Craig said. "Or ever be ready to come."

He did have a point, the vampire thought, deciding to be pleased. "An oversight on my part," the vampire said, standing up and taking a step toward the man. "Let me see. Open your mouth." The vampire put his index and middle fingers into Craig's mouth. He stroked his fingertips down the man's tongue. Craig shuddered. The vampire pressed his fingers further into Craig's mouth, inverted his wrist and stroked the soft palate. The man whined, a sound that veered from protest to desperation as the vampire's long fingertips touched his uvula. The textures inside Craig's warm mouth fascinated the vampire, and so did the sounds Craig made, mixing discomfort and desire as they seemed to be doing. But this game was distracting from the one that had been interrupted, and the vampire liked to finish what he had started.

"I'll need to play the voice of the dildo," the vampire said as if to himself. "So my pet knows when it's feeling good or needing more, and when it's done for the night." He sat down on the floor near the dildo, one leg on either side of it, though it was more between his calves than his thighs. "Would you like to make a choice now, Craig?" he asked in a smooth, seductive, and threatening tone, one that implied he was not angry yet, but could be pushed to anger by the least resistance. "If taking the dildo in your mouth is too difficult, you may take it in your ass instead. Say the word, and I'll slick it up for you."

The man paled and shook his head. "It's not too difficult, your grace. Just let me--" Craig lowered himself, hands resting flat again, this time just between the vampire's heels. The vampire moved his feet so they rested atop Craig's hands, pinning them in place. He made encouraging sounds as the man took the dildo into his mouth. "Oh, that's very good. Deeper, ah, mmm." He watched closely, and when he thought Craig's teeth had slipped against the dildo, he said, "Ouch, be careful of the teeth," in a tone of voice that seemed to mean the opposite of the words it spoke. "What do you think of yourself, I wonder, on your hands and knees fellating a chunk of latex? Don't answer, of course, your mouth is full." When he thought Craig was about to take another breather, the vampire said, "Don't stop until I come, I'm getting close," and panted in imitation of a man he'd heard in the throes of the sort of passion they were mocking, a few nights before. "Oh yes, that's right, that's good," the vampire mimicked. And finally, "Ahh, that was good, you may stop." But he kept his feet firmly on Craig's hands. 

Craig lifted his head but could not sit up. He tugged his hands, but the vampire, much stronger, had no trouble keeping them pinned. 

"Your grace?" he asked in a small voice.

"Yes, pet?"

"Am I done?"

"Not even close." The vampire smirked. "But this dildo has had its fun for now. Stay in this position for me. I'll find you a treat." The vampire firmly pressed Craig's hands into the floor before rising to his feet and returning to the kitchen. He opened the box of cookies and took one out to be the man's treat. Returning, the vampire set the cookie on the floor next to the dildo. Before the man could reach for the cookie, he put his feet back onto the man's hands, holding them in place.

Craig looked up at the vampire, then back at the cookie. He tried pulling one hand out from under the vampire's foot and failed. His eyes flickered from the cookie back upward, where he might be trying to look under the vampire's robe. 

"Are you going to let me eat the cookie, your grace?"

The vampire was silent, considering how to answer.


	2. Take Such Large Charter from Our Smiles

When they had been in the grocery store, and the vampire had put the dog dishes and squeaky toys into the cart, Craig had asked about them. 

"Do you recall, Craig, you asked me if I had a dog?"

"Yes, your grace. It wasn't that long ago," he added, indignant.

The vampire laughed. " **You are my dog, Craig.** Or, rather… I think that Craig is a man's name. You should have a different one, as a dog, don't you think? Cur… no, Cray? Reg… ah. Reggie. I like it. Eat your cookie treat, Reggie." 

Craig looked up at him. That was not confusion the vampire saw on his face; the man had understood perfectly. Or maybe, too well. Had he explained properly? No, he thought he had not. " **You are still a man, of course. But one who will play the dog for me, to please me.** As long as I call you Reggie, that is. When I want you to return to acting as the man you are, I will let you know by calling you Craig again." He paused, deciding that was clear and correct, and patted Craig's head. "Now, don't you want your cookie?"

Craig hesitated, but after not very long of indecision he bent his head and tried to eat the cookie off the floor with his mouth. It was not entirely successful, and there were scraps and crumbs of cookie on the tile when he finished. But the vampire could see the awareness of humiliation warring in his eyes with a sense of accomplishment, and was well satisfied. 

"Here, Reggie. I'll put your collar on." He pulled the leather band from the string bag and wrapped it around Craig's neck. He tested the tightness, pulled it a bit more and snapped it in place. Three snaps fastened it snugly. The vampire put a slender finger into one of the D rings placed around the collar and tugged. Very good, he thought. "And let's get these pants off you, and the shoes. Dogs don't wear those, do they." After removing them, the vampire tossed pants, socks and shoes over by the sliding glass door. He kept the briefs in his hands, stretching and tugging on them. 

"Now, let's play fetch. Dogs like to play fetch, you know." He pulled the dildo from the tile with an obscene sucking sound, and threw it across the room to land in the seat of a hammock chair, then sat himself on the sofa to wait and watch. Idly he shredded the cloth of the white briefs while he waited. 

Craig's hands clenched and stretched. "Fetch, Reggie," the vampire encouraged. "Fetch that stick." 

With some reluctance showing in his body language, Craig crawled over to the hammock chair and tried to pick up the dildo in his mouth. It was thick and rubbery and heavy, not at all easy to pick up that way. The vampire chuckled to himself and called, "Bring the stick, Reggie, bring it here. Good dog."

Finally, Craig figured out how to grip the dildo in his teeth and lift it from the hammock bed. He started bringing it back toward where the vampire sat. Halfway back, he dropped it. The vampire saw he was about to pick it up with his hand and put it back into his mouth.

With superhuman speed, before Craig could touch the dildo with his fingers, the vampire had his newspaper rolled up in his hand and was striking him across the side of his head with it, then again on his ass. "No, bad dog," the vampire said. "Good dogs fetch the stick in their mouth. The paw is for walking." Then, at a much more leisurely pace, the vampire returned to where he'd been sitting. 

Craig bent his head and struggled to pick up the dildo again. It seemed, if anything, more difficult this time than it had been the first. Eventually he managed to pick it up in his teeth, a bad grip, and carefully scrabble on hands and knees toward the vampire to drop the dildo at the vampire's feet. His mouth worked, trying to ease the discomfort of carrying a heavy latex object in a mouth made for speech, not portage. 

The vampire patted his pet. "Good boy. Wasn't that fun?" But he saw it had not been. He thought he might lighten the burden, for a little time. "Reggie, let me tell you the rules you ought to follow if you want to please me as you play at being my dog. Some of these I think you may already have learned, because you seem to be clever, yes?"

He paused, and Craig did not try to speak, or answer, but nodded hesitantly.

The vampire patted him again, and went on. "A dog should wear no clothing, walk on all fours, if he picks up an object it should be with his mouth. I like my dog to want to hump my leg, and I'll allow him to when the whim strikes me. Chocolate is dangerous for dogs and ingesting it would require a visit to the vet. And of course, a dog should not try to speak in human language, but communicate as a dog would, with barks and whines and growls and panting and, mostly, body language. Nodding or shaking his head like a human would is not a problem, but I don't think I'd interpret it the same way from a dog as I would from a man, hmm?"

The vampire watched Craig as the man began to understand what was expected of him. There was a certain sag and resignation to his reaction that the vampire felt a little disappointed by, but not too much. It was easy enough to address, at least in part. He gave a couple of minutes of silence to this contemplation on both their parts, and then went to the controlling words. " **You will for the next two hours enjoy and be enthusiastic about playing the part of Reggie. All your youthful enthusiasm and whatever knowledge of dogs you have, and your own sense of playfulness, will allow you to be fully in the grip of a pleasant game of pretending to be a dog.**

 **"And then, when the two hours are up, you will recall exactly what you did and how it felt, and be free to feel however your nature dictates about that, but you will retain the capacity to act as though you are enjoying yourself, should you wish to do so.** "

The vampire saw the change in Craig immediately. He began bouncing in place, looking eager, letting his tongue hang a little from his mouth, making panting sounds. When the vampire extended his hand to his pet, Craig -- Reggie -- licked it affectionately. The vampire pulled his hand away. Reggie looked up at him, crouched at his feet, an eager look on his face. One hand tapped at the vampire's knee; an almost happy whine sounded from the back of Reggie's throat. The vampire bent his head and his eager pet licked his cheek. 

The vampire smiled and ruffled the top of Reggie's head. "That's a good boy."

Reggie scampered around the low table, his ass wiggling as if he'd wag his tail if he had one. The playacting of tail-wagging almost brought the vampire to laugh out loud. Reggie returned to nudge the vampire's knee with his nose, then back to what the vampire could only call frolicking.

He watched, bemused, for a few minutes, then patted his thigh, sliding his robe off to that side. Reggie crawled over to him. The vampire sat, legs spread wide, and patted his thigh again. Reggie put his nose to the thigh, right where the vampire had been patting. The vampire saw Reggie noticing his flaccid cock, half exposed by the silk robe, and shifted his leg so that his calf brushed Reggie's cock, which stirred and went half-hard again at the touch. Reggie folded his fingers down to make paws of his hands and pressed them against the vampire's chest, rubbing his cock on the vampire's leg, humping it as close as he could contrive to how a dog would. 

The vampire felt the roughness of the man's pubic hair, the soft skin of the man's scrotum, the velvety pressure of the man's cock against his leg. He leaned into it, feeling a boneless relaxation in himself at the way his pet took almost innocent pleasure in the contact, the friction. "Keep going until you come," he said softly, speaking the words with his lips against his pet's hair. He caressed the nape of his pet's neck just above the collar as Reggie panted, humping faster, getting closer. A warm stream of semen spurted onto the vampire's leg. "Lick me clean, pet," the vampire said, voice low, barely above a whisper. He felt softer and less tense than he had in weeks. 

After licking up and down the vampire's leg, cleaning it as best he could, Reggie turned himself around three times and curled up at the vampire's feet. He seemed to actually be falling asleep, the vampire thought, watching him with a warm affection he had not expected to feel. Or, had not wanted to hope for, perhaps was closer to the truth. He knew it had been possible. He also knew, from many past experiences, that it was fleeting. He would enjoy it while it lasted. The warmth of his sleeping, trusting pet against the side of his leg was momentary bliss of a completely different sort than drinking his blood; one less intense, but satisfying a separate and distinct hunger, one that often went unfed for much longer.

After twenty minutes of wandering in his memories while his pet napped, the vampire was ready to resume the game. He patted Reggie, then shook gently, until the man was awake again, though it was clear the man's body was ready for a good night's sleep. Well, he would not be getting that until the sun was up; night was the vampire's time and not to be wasted. And there was another human physical need that the vampire could tell the man was beginning to be aware of. As he came more awake, Reggie jiggled his foot in the way of humans whose bladder was full.

"Would you like to go for a walk, Reggie?" His pet tilted his head, spun in a circle, then barked twice. "I'll take that to mean yes," the vampire told him. He stood, walked toward his bedroom, Reggie following at his heel. "Stay," the vampire said as he opened the door to his bedroom. He entered, and Reggie remained by the door. The vampire slipped off his robe, enjoying the stifled gasp from Reggie as he saw. But it was not the time for the vampire to let his pet admire his nakedness. The vampire dressed himself for the outdoors in clothing that he felt more comfortable in than modern dress; not choosing to bother with tights for his own back yard, he pulled on a loose dark red tunic that came to mid-thigh and cinched it around his waist with a thick leather belt. He put soft white socks on his feet and pulled on stiff leather boots that came to just above his knees. Remembering where he'd seen the longer leash, the vampire pulled it from its drawer and closed the wardrobe. He went to the kitchen, took a flashlight and the squeaky bone-shaped dog toy, and then beckoned Reggie over to the sliding glass door that let onto the back yard.

The vampire clipped the leash to a D ring on the collar and took the handle in his hand. He let Reggie have the run of the long leash, sliding open the glass door. Reggie scampered out into the back yard, sniffing at plants and bushes near the edge of the patio. The vampire followed at a slow human pace. "A dog might do his business in the back yard," the vampire suggested. Reggie looked back at him. "All you'd have to do is lift your leg to the side," the vampire said. "You know how a dog does."

They ventured out into the darkness of the back yard, the paths easy for the vampire to see by starlight, more difficult for mortal vision. Reggie stumbled and whined as he stepped wrong on rocks or jabbed himself against low branches. Wanting his pet to enjoy this part of the game, the vampire turned on the flashlight for him, making it a little easier. He shone the flashlight on each appropriate target as a sop for his pet's human eyes, starting with a sapling at the edge of the path. Reggie managed a good stream as he lifted his leg toward the narrow trunk. After that, it was a few drops on each bush or tree. The vampire encouraged him to sniff at the markings, as he had often seen dogs do. Reggie snuffled at the ground, whuffing in surprise when a scent was new to him or stronger than he expected. A squirrel startled him by racing across the path, and after a moment he gave chase, careless of the scrapes when the squirrel dove for safety between two bushes, brought up short only by the vampire's hold on his leash. 

After his walk, Reggie was muddy and had scratches all over him, but there was no blood and the vampire was not ready yet to go back inside. The starry sky shone overhead, his pet was being adorable and it was still early in the night. "Let's play fetch out here," the vampire said, showing Reggie the squeaky toy bone. This stick was easier and more fun to pick up than the dildo had been. The vampire tossed the squeaky toy into a flower bed with a layer of mulch and a thick growth of volunteer mint plants, then helpfully aimed the flashlight's beam at where it had landed. He should hire a gardener, he thought idly while he watched Reggie scramble into the flower bed, grab the squeaky toy in his teeth, and make his way back to drop it at the vampire's feet. 

They played fetch until Reggie, apparently tired of the game, rolled over on his back and begged for belly rubs with all four paws in the air instead of chasing after the squeaky toy. Charmed, the vampire tickled Reggie's sides and stomach, made him squirm and laugh a blameless human laughter he tried his best to hide behind puppy style whines and panting. It was time to go back inside and feed his pet, the vampire thought. "Fetch your toy, now, and I'll clean you up so we can go back inside," he said. He shone the flashlight on the squeaky toy where it lay under a bush, giving Reggie time to see where it was, then turned the light off and set it aside.

While Reggie went to find his toy in the dark yard, the vampire prepared the garden hose with its spray fitting so he might clean his pet up enough not to track dirt into his tidy home. He should have brought a towel out with them, but a little water dripped onto the floor or carpet would dry quickly enough, he thought. The vampire cleaned a segment of the patio thoroughly to be the bathing area. A few minutes later, Reggie returned with the toy, a bit dirtier even than he had been when the vampire had sent him to find it, and with a faint scent of blood. 

The vampire shuddered with hunger and controlled himself firmly. Wash the pet, he said under his breath to himself, and pointed to the area he'd washed clean. The patio was lit well enough from the glass doors allowing light from inside the house, so Reggie saw where to stand and went there, alert though growing tired, on hands and knees on the rough textured pavement squares of the vampire's patio. He squared his back and faced forward. The vampire removed the collar from around Reggie's neck. He did not want to damage or shrink it with the water.

The vampire sprayed the water, not full blast but with enough pressure to clean off dirt, leaves, and everything that should not remain on his pet's skin. He began with the shoulders, making a few passes over and down his back, then focusing on his pet's hair to get the pieces of leaves and burrs that had stuck there. He checked carefully for ticks that might have tried to make a meal of his pet. The vampire was jealous even of insects that might try to take the blood that should be only his. But fortunately no such insolent pests were to be found. The vampire washed his pet's face and neck, chest and down his arms to his hands, which had reddened but did not seem to be bleeding. He spotted the blood -- a tiny scratch on the side of his pet's ribcage. The vampire bent down and slurped the little that remained after he had probably washed most of it off, and there had not been much. The ecstasy of the blood was so brief his head barely swam and then it was over. Reggie shivered with pleasure, his whole body shaking, and would have collapsed if the vampire had not caught him. 

The bliss of such a small amount of blood did not last too long, and soon Reggie was able to stand so the vampire could finish washing him. Walking around his pet, the vampire washed the man's hips and thighs, and both his pet's lower legs and feet, before moving up to more sensitive parts. The vampire ran the stream of water up and down the crack of his pet's ass, crouched to aim it up at his genitals, cleaning them, checking that they were clean with a touch, then washing them again. He changed the width and pressure of the stream using the dials on the nozzle, trying it harder and wider, harder and narrower.

Reggie yipped in protest, squirmed and shuddered and even squealed. At some point the vampire realized he was no longer using the pressure stream to make sure his pet was clean, but to see his pet's physical reaction to the water. 

The vampire turned the water off. Reggie was shivering, body heat sapped by the cold water and cool night air, and struggling to obey the compelling to have fun with his role as the vampire's dog. The relief on his face at the end of the washing was so clear the vampire had to smile again. "Let's go in and get you dried off and fed," he said as he unhooked the leash and opened the sliding glass door.

Reggie made an effort to shake the water off. It was incompetent but awfully endearing. He dripped profusely. He shook his head back and forth so fast he looked like he was making himself dizzy, and wiggled his ass in a way that was more of a come-on than a dog's shake. The vampire really did laugh as he stepped inside and Reggie followed. The floor was wet, but it didn't bother the vampire at all. He got a towel and dropped it on his pet, then rubbed vigorously. The vampire toweled Reggie's hair dry and dabbed at his face. He ran the terrycloth roughly over his chest, eliciting a yelp from his pet as it went over his still sensitive nipples. He was rougher still over his pet's cock and balls, giving them a tight squeeze with his fingertips through the towel and then pulling it away. 

When his pet was otherwise mostly dry, the vampire scrubbed between his pet's ass cheeks, then tossed the towel on the floor near the sliding glass door. He expected his housekeeping service would tidy all these dropped bits of cloth away some time later. For now he left them where they were as little reminders of his entertainments. He lifted each of Reggie's hands, sniffing to make sure there wasn't a trace of blood, and sprayed the most badly scratched part of each palm with a soothing disinfectant, then did the same to the man's knees and shins.

The vampire put the collar firmly back onto his pet's neck. "Let's see, what did I buy you for doggie dinner," he said aloud. He remembered clearly. Spam and pumpkin puree: he opened both cans in the kitchen and dumped half of each can into the dog food bowl, put the half-full cans both into the refrigerator and stirred the contents of the dog food bowl with a fork until it was a homogenous mess. "Come here, Reggie," he called, and set the dog food bowl down. He filled the water bowl with water from the kitchen sink and set that next to it. "Eat your dinner," he said. 

He waited to see the man's expression at the first taste of the mess he was eating. Perfectly nutritious food, though. Good for the blood. The man tried to mask his disgusted expression with a doggy pant and lip smack. The vampire patted his shoulder and went to get the worst of the mud off his boots. 

When his boots were at least clean enough not to track mud through the house, the vampire went in the kitchen to check on his pet's progress. As he came into the kitchen, Reggie sat up on his haunches and put his hands up in a doggy begging pose. The vampire patted his head, then looked at the food and water dishes. Reggie had made good progress on his food, but the water bowl appeared almost untouched. The chocolate was still in the same position on the counter where the vampire had left it. "Good boy," the vampire said. "Drink your water. I don't want you getting dehydrated." 

Reggie put his tongue in the water and tried to pull some into his mouth but couldn't manage it. With the vampire watching, he seemed to make more effort, and after a few tries with his tongue, put more of his face into the bowl, trying to suck the water into his mouth. He got a noseful instead, coughing and blowing, choking himself on the water. "Don't breathe it, pet," the vampire scolded. The man's cheeks reddened; his shoulders hunched. He put his face into the bowl again, near the back this time, so his nose wasn't underwater. He still coughed a lot of it up, but the vampire thought he got a good swallow of water that time. Reggie looked up at him and whined. "Finish your food and water," the vampire said firmly. His pet bent to finish the task. 

~~~~

When the water and food were mostly consumed, the two hours were up. The vampire could see the shift in his pet's demeanor as clearly as he would have been able to sense the edge of the sun coming over the horizon, and it was nearly as disappointing. But one night must end so that the next could begin, he thought. And it was time to take care of the practical arrangements anyway. "You have done well, Craig," the vampire said. "I enjoyed this time with my dog. But I need you to be a man again for a while. Dress yourself." 

Craig slowly and a little unsteadily got to his feet. "Yes, your grace," he said, hoarse from the coughing fit he'd had. 

"And bring me your smart phone," the vampire added.

He could see Craig trying to figure out how to refuse, and then failing to think of a way. The man's transparency was a pleasure, the vampire thought. "I'll get it for you then," Craig said with an unhappy edge to his voice. He left the kitchen to look for his clothes, found his shirt and pants where he'd left them in the parlor. The vampire followed him. "I can't find my briefs," Craig said as he pulled the football jersey on.

"Put on your pants without them," the vampire told him.

"I figured," Craig said. He bit his lower lip. "Why do you want me to put my clothes on, your grace?"

"Don't you want to be dressed?" the vampire asked curiously. 

The tips of Craig's ears turned red. "I noticed you don't have any briefs on yourself. I thought maybe you'd want me to fuck you now. I can't do that with pants on." The man's throat bobbed as he swallowed. 

"Not yet, pet. Not until tomorrow night, if ever, I think." The vampire patted the man on the shoulder. "You're doing well with speaking your thoughts clearly even when you don't want to," he added, pleased that Craig hadn't stumbled over the words. 

"Your grace," Craig said, the red spreading from his ears to his forehead and cheeks. He reached into his pocket, pulled out his smart phone and pressed the button that turned it on. While it ran through its start-up, he yawned widely and uncontrollably. When the phone was done with its start up, he looked at it and saw the time: past midnight, not yet 1 am. "Why am I so sleepy?" he asked himself. "It isn't that late." 

"Sleep when the night is over," the vampire said. "If you fall asleep while you are being a dog, I won't punish you. It's fitting for a dog to sleep when he is tired. I will simply wake you if I wish you awake. But if you fall asleep as a man, my pet, be sure you will be punished." 

The vampire saw Craig's knuckles whiten, but the man did a decent job of not showing fear on his face; admirable enough, not what the vampire preferred, but not a problem for him. This pet was not perfect, but he was very good, the vampire thought. He hoped, therefore, that he would not accidentally kill this one. It was always a chance he took, though. Human lives were so fragile, and vampire nature so unforgiving. It was necessary to take care of the possibility before it became an emergency. That was what these arrangements were all about.

"I won't fall asleep, your grace." Craig pinched the bridge of his nose and scrubbed at his upper lip with the side of his hand. He made an aborted reach to scratch at the side of his leg, but stopped himself. Instead, he unlocked the phone in his hand and began in an automatic way to check its notifications to see if he had messages.

The vampire plucked the smart phone from Craig's hand and navigated it easily. Install a certain app, wait for it to complete its download, open it. "Smile," he said and took a photo of Craig that did not flatter him but was still very handsome. His pet was photogenic, the vampire thought, smiling as he uploaded the picture. He carefully entered some text about the preferences his pet had in a male partner and a blurb about himself, then proceeded to the matchmaking function. 

Craig watched him navigate the phone's interface with a small crease between his eyes. 

"Did you not think I understood these devices?" the vampire asked with a false chuckle. He stared at his pet coldly. "I am old fashioned, not ignorant nor incompetent." There was already an appropriate match made, so quickly it could only be fate's gift. "Here is our new friend Michael." He showed the picture to Craig. "He has no car, so we will drive to his place and give him a ride. We will bring him back here, he will think you and he have had sex, and then he will take your car back to his place, since you will have given him its loan for the weekend."

"Your grace, why?" 

The vampire would not answer that question. " **You will not ask again, Craig, nor speak of the arrangement with Michael to me or to anyone. If someone asks, you will shrug and refuse to discuss it, with disdain or embarrassment as you prefer.** " 

Craig's lips pressed together and he said nothing more on the subject, as the controlling took its hold.

The vampire found a loose pair of cotton trousers and pulled them on under his tunic and over his boots. He took Craig to the dark red Toyota, whose paint matched his tunic so well, and got into the passenger seat. Craig took the driver's seat and the vampire put Michael's address into the car's GPS, copying it from Craig's phone. As the man drove along the route the GPS indicated, the vampire kept the phone in his hand, checking it periodically to make sure Michael had not sent another message, idly looking through Craig's other information which meant more to him now that they'd had some hours' acquaintance, and, more significantly, that the man's status had moved in the vampire's estimation from meal to pet.

The vampire paged through message history, opened email, chat apps, picture histories, admired certain posts on social media that showed his pet in states of celebration or inebriation or, in one case that he immediately forwarded to one of his own more anonymous accounts, delicious undress. He considered what he had put into Craig's profile in the app on which Michael had been found, and changed it a little, then again as he thought further ahead. It might be that his pet would find a playmate. Pets often were happier in pairs.

But he was getting ahead of himself. The vampire had learned through long and sometimes painful experience to treasure each night for itself first, no matter what its promise. And they had arrived now at Michael's address. Craig pulled the car into a space in the parking area of the apartment building. The vampire turned the phone off and gave it back to Craig, who put it into his pocket. "Go and greet Michael, and kiss him," the vampire said to Craig, "and then give him your keys. Get into the back seat and let him drive." It was a risk, but he thought Craig would obey orders, and did not require controlling for this task. And if he did not, there would be time to fix it.

He saw Craig think to ask why again, but be unable to, and clench his fists. Maybe it was too soon to expect obedience in a situation where his pet wanted so badly not to obey. The vampire gave in to necessity. " **You will do as I just asked,** " he said and sighed. 

There was no more resistance. The men kissed, and returned to the car. Michael slid into the driver's seat. He leaned over the back where Craig was buckling his seat belt. "Who's your friend?" he asked.

" **Michael, you don't even notice my presence** ," the vampire said. " **You will drive to the address you are directed to by the device.** " He pressed the buttons to have the car map the way back to his house. " **On the way you will make idle conversation with Craig, and his answers will all seem normal, so boring that you will forget them as soon as you hear them.** "

The conversation amused the vampire. Michael asked questions like "How has your weekend been so far?" and Craig told him the absolute truth, and Michael said "Oh, great," and chattered about his own tedious interactions earlier that evening. By the time they reached the vampire's house again, Craig was laughing too at the incongruity of it all. " **You'll get out of the car now and wait on the porch, Craig** ," the vampire said. Craig did so.

" **Michael, you will drive home now, and park Craig's car in the parking lot of your apartment complex. He has loaned it to you for the weekend. He will contact you, most likely on Sunday but perhaps a day later next week, to pick him up and return the car to his possession. You will remember the two of you having satisfactory but boring sex in your apartment tonight, and him leaving on foot, claiming a friend would be picking him up. You will remember not checking who the friend was or seeing Craig get into a car, only that you fell asleep and thought nothing more about him.** " The vampire got out of the car and shut the door behind him, returning to Craig and taking his hand. 

He took Craig back inside the house. The vampire could see that the man was very tired. Soon he would allow a nap, perhaps. "Get yourself a glass of water and drink it, Craig," the vampire said. "That will help you stay awake for your obedience training." 

Craig raised his eyebrows, but did not question further. He found a glass in a cabinet and filled it with water from the sink, drank it in a long series of swallows as he leaned against the kitchen counter. He splashed water on his face. The vampire watched this and slipped into his room where he took off the cotton pants, keeping his tunic and boots on because he planned to return to the back yard in the next hour. It grew late; the night was now a little past half over. The vampire felt the pressure of time to finish his game, at least the part he wanted to play tonight.


	3. That Blood of Yours in My Warm Veins

Humans grew slowly used to whatever happened to them. The vampire found he was able to gradually make the games harsher, fewer treats, more punishment, and every time something went worse than the human expected, they struggled a bit more to accept it, they didn't spoil his fun by being resigned to what was happening to them. So at first, he was always much kinder than he would have preferred to be. This was the very first obedience training. He did not bring out the shock collar, or punish initial lack of understanding. The bewilderment of being a dog learning to obey was humiliating enough for now, and tomorrow he could move on. 

"Reggie, come here," the vampire called. He wanted to see what Craig would do with this abbreviated request. He slapped the crop against the palm of his hand and waited.

He was pleased with his pet's choice. Craig stripped, dropping shirt, shoes and pants on the kitchen floor, then crawling out into the parlor as Reggie. There was little playfulness, but there was obedience and initiative and a will to please the vampire, and he appreciated those things. 

"Obedience training," the vampire said. "A dog does not understand his master's words, when he first is learning to obey them. But he learns through experience what they mean and how to do as his master wishes. You, a man playing the part of a dog for my pleasure, understand the English language too well to recreate this experience. So your commands will be in another tongue. 

"Learn quickly. I will beat you for disobedience or for mistakes." The vampire swung the crop, stopping it before it struck. His pet flinched anyway. The vampire laughed, a single false guffaw. "Not yet, Reggie. Not until I have taught you." He set the crop down on the low table, and made haste to get the box of peanut butter cookies, which would serve as training treats. The box soon lay next to the crop on the table.

"Your first command is Сидеть." The vampire said the word again, pressing down on Reggie's lower back. At first the man didn't respond, but when the vampire pressed only a little harder, he seemed to figure out what was intended. He sat on his heels, palms flat on the ground. This was correct. The vampire held a quarter of a peanut butter cookie on the palm of his hand next to his pet's mouth, as a reward. Reggie licked the cookie piece off his hand, then licked his hand again, looking up at him hopefully. "Good boy," the vampire said. "Сидеть." 

Then, "Место, Reggie," the vampire said. He walked slowly toward the glass door. Reggie got up and followed. "No, Reggie," the vampire said. He went back to the spot he had been before. "Сидеть, mесто." Reggie sat as he had before. The vampire fed him another quarter cookie, then pressed down on his shoulder. "Место." This time, when the vampire walked again slowly to the sliding door, Reggie stayed sitting. The vampire threw him a piece of cookie, landing it perfectly next to him on the floor. "Good, Reggie. Now you've learned two obedience words already. What a smart dog." The vampire waited nearly thirty seconds, allowing his pet time to think, or get bored. "Сюда," he said then. 

Reggie looked at him curiously. "Сюда," he repeated, this time patting his thigh. "Сюда, Reggie." Cautiously, unsure if it was correct, Reggie crawled toward him. "Yes, good dog," the vampire encouraged. "Сидеть." Reggie sat on his heels again. This pet was picking up the game faster than the vampire had expected. He needed to make it more challenging. 

Having taught his pet the Russian commands for sit, stay, and come here, the vampire decided to move on to the more challenging command for heel. It was a command that required the dog to follow alongside his master, staying at a fixed distance. Learning it would be secondary to learning to execute it. 

Half an hour later, Reggie was heeling around the interior of the house to the vampire's satisfaction. He had also learned that "Лежать" meant lie down. With five commands at his disposal, the vampire was ready to move to the next phase of obedience training. "Сюда," he said, standing near the sliding glass door with the crop in hand. "Рядом." He walked slowly out onto the patio, keeping a pace Reggie would not find it difficult to match. "A dog who is well trained may be allowed in the yard without a leash," he said when they reached the edge of the patio. "That is enough treats. You will obey to please me, or be beaten." He patted Reggie's head. 

The light from inside the house made the near edge of the yard visible, the vampire thought, even to weak human eyesight. But the dark made humans afraid, and fear made them make mistakes. He was eager to administer punishment, though he still did not want to rush his pleasures and ruin them thereby. Even a taste of punishment would be good, he thought a little wistfully. With Reggie still heeling, he walked further from the light, down a path that took a turn into a darker part of the yard, shaded by thick bushes. "Лежать." Reggie lay down in the grass. "Место." The vampire walked back the way he had come, a few yards, not out of sight. Reggie stayed down, stayed put. 

"Сидеть," the vampire called, patting his leg. Finally, Reggie made a mistake. This was the command for sit, not for come. But they both began with the same sounds, and the vampire's body language was purposely misleading. When Reggie reached him, the vampire smacked the crop into his ass, not just once, but so fast it he thought a human might not be able to count. His pet yelped in pain. "Сидеть," the vampire repeated. Reggie gasped, then sat properly. 

The vampire began teaching his pet how the commands combined. If he told him to heel, then sit, then began walking, his pet was meant to get up and keep heeling until told to stay. But if he told him to heel, then lie down, his pet was meant to remain lying down and not get up and stay with him unless commanded to heel again. This took a few attempts, and allowed the vampire a few more beatings, until his pet seemed to remember the behavior he was expected to follow. 

The vampire decided to play a nasty trick, then. He was walking slowly along the edge of the patio with Reggie heeling. He stopped, standing still. Reggie stood next to him, also still. "Лежать." Reggie crouched down on the patio. The vampire still did not move. "Сидеть." Reggie sat up again, leaning back on his heels, toes digging into the pavement square. The vampire began walking again. 

He sensed Reggie's hesitation. Had the command to lie down meant he should stay in place? No, it did not, but his pet made that error. The vampire turned and slapped his cheek with the crop, then reversed it and slapped the other. Reggie whined and rubbed at his face with the back of his hand. "Место," the vampire said, commanding his pet to stay, and dragged one of the heavy patio chairs over next to where Reggie sat. "That's enough obedience training for tonight," he said, sitting down in the chair, spreading his legs wide. There might be an easier way for the vampire to get what he wanted. 

His pet made an inquiring whine. "Come kneel between my legs, Craig," the vampire said, done with Reggie for now. 

Craig, already on his knees, did not stand fully up but came closer in a crouch, then kneeled. "Your grace." The vampire saw him wince as already sore knees pressed into rough concrete. 

"This is an offer you may choose to accept or refuse." Pausing to let Craig reflect, the vampire nudged between his pet's legs with his boot, spreading his pet's knees further apart so that the toe of his boot could press against the man's balls. "As you can see, I have difficulty getting an erection. Viagra, while a brilliant invention, does not help at all in my case. I will permit you to try to do with your mouth what the miracle drug has failed to achieve, to make me hard. If you succeed, I will allow you to fuck me, your cock in my ass, until you climax, immediately. 

"I know this is an inviting offer, but I warn you, if you fail, I will punish you." 

"Yes, your grace, I want to, so much," Craig said, panting with his eagerness. 

"Once you start, pet, you may not stop because your jaw is sore or because your knees are sore. You may stop only when I am hard or when I tell you that you have failed and it is time for your punishment. Do you understand?"

"Your grace, I understand. It isn't that I'm not afraid of the punishment, I am. I get the feeling it's going to be worse than that thing you were hitting Reggie with was. And it seems like it's more likely that I'm going to be punished than succeed. I mean, I have no idea what I'm doing when it comes to giving blow jobs. Your cock is going to be the first one I ever put in my mouth, and I don't really like the idea, so how I'm going to fake enjoying that I don't even know. But it's a chance to get to fuck you tonight, not tomorrow or maybe never, and I want you so much, I never wanted a woman so much, I've never wanted anything so much in my life. I don't even understand how it's possible. I can't let the chance go. So please, let me try."

This was exactly what the vampire had wanted. He pushed up the flap of his tunic and took his limp cock in hand. "Come closer, then, pet. Spread your knees wide." The vampire played with Craig's cock with his boot as Craig did as he was instructed. "Here you are." Tilting his hips upward, the vampire helped Craig take the length of his cock into his mouth. He felt the back of Craig's throat against the foreskin that covered the tip of his cock. Even limp as it was, the vampire's cock was almost as long as Craig's was when erect, almost as thick. That he was uncut added to the size, of course, but the vampire was also simply more endowed in that aspect.

The vampire very much wanted Craig to succeed. He thought Craig might well nearly choke on it if his cock got hard, and he remembered, from long ago, how good it could feel when that happened, but it so rarely did anymore. He thought there was almost no chance it would tonight. He barely noticed Craig's efforts, labored as they were, his flaccid cock insensitive compared to a human's, insensitive even compared to the vampire's fingers or tongue. It flared into exquisite sensitivity when it engorged, but he feared sometimes that would never happen for him again. At least he had many other pleasures, chief among them drinking an attractive man's blood. The vampire tried to think of that ecstasy, in case it aroused him, but it had not done so before. 

Beginning to be bored with his own sensations, the vampire instead paid attention to his pet's efforts and discomforts. Craig was shifting restlessly on his knees, his cock fully erect between his legs. The vampire pushed it with the bottom of his boot up against the man's stomach, making the man shudder. He let up the pressure, then pressed again. Craig made a sound of protest around the vampire's cock. It was something to do while he let his pet keep trying. The vampire nudged Craig's cock around with his boot to the left, then the right, then lifted the scrotum with the toe. With his hands, the vampire pulled Craig's head harder against his crotch. But nothing happened, was happening. 

The vampire sat back again, passive, let Craig do what he would for a while, five minutes, ten minutes, twenty. He thought about past pets, past nights alone looking at the stars, past nights at shows or parties or mingling with strangers who had no idea a predator lurked among them. Enough, he thought. This goes nowhere. "You're out of time," he said aloud. "You failed."

Craig didn't stop, not right away. He sucked harder than he had been, moved faster. "Stop," the vampire said. 

Craig stopped then. He leaned back, gasped for air, rubbed at his jaw. "I'm sorry," he said.

"Well," the vampire said. "Go inside, take a shower, put balm on your scrapes and bandage and treat yourself if you are cut." He didn't move as Craig stood, nearly fell, steadied himself and slowly went inside.

The vampire leaned back and stared up at the stars. They hardly changed, year after year, and yet they were not the same stars he had seen as a boy. He picked out the constellations, noticed again as he did on many nights how the small changes had added up. Or, the people of this modern day said, they were the same stars, and the world had shifted its position to make them appear different. The vampire did not care for that explanation. It may be right but it was not where he wanted his mind to go when he thought about the stars. 

He could hear the shower running. He waited until it had stopped, and another few minutes. That was enough. His pet would be ready. He needed to be clean, himself, because some of the dirt was on him, but he would do that a little later. 

~~~

The stars told him how much time remained until the sun came up. It was a little less than three hours. He went inside his house, to his bedroom. "Craig," he called. The man came to the door of the bedroom, hesitated on the threshold. 

The vampire, faster than a human could physically react, took him, threw the man over his shoulder, carried him to the bed and slung him across his lap. He began to spank his pet bare-handed, the man's head dangling near the floor, ass right where he wanted it. 

At first he went slowly. Each slap against the man's flesh sounded loud in the quiet room. Each spank jostled the man's cock against the vampire's lap, bounced his head on his shoulders, jangled the D rings on the collar he had apparently worn in the shower. The vampire was concerned for a moment. Wet, the collar might shrink and even choke the man. He stopped the spanking, unfastened the collar, and replaced it much looser around the man's neck. There, nothing to worry about any longer.

The vampire was spanking faster, not quite as hard, but a staccato pace of slaps against his pet's ass. He watched it as it got red, as handprints appeared almost burned into the skin. He carefully slapped again and again in the exact spot, making the handprint seem to stay in place, flashing red and white as blood rushed from it and back into it. 

Craig's breathing was heavier, and he was making sounds of pain, at first grunts, then groans, then almost sobs. When the vampire did not stop, when he slowed and hit a little harder, but still in the same handprint he had been doing, his pet began crying. The vampire felt the wetness of tears on his leg, where the man's head dangled now that he was unable any longer to hold it up. 

He stopped being careful that each slap on his pet's ass landed at the same spot. The handprint faded, not going away, and the crying continued but did not intensify. Two last, hard spanks and the vampire lifted his pet from his lap and lay him face down on his bed, standing as he did so. He stroked the back of Craig's head as the man cried into the pillow, body relaxing against the soft comforter he now lay on. "Now, pet, you've been punished properly, the spanking is over," he said, continuing to pet the man's hair. The sobs subsided, Craig's body shivering less, beginning to relax. "Stay here," the vampire said. 

"I'm sorry," Craig said, just as he had out on the patio. He started to cry again, softer this time.

"Stay here," the vampire repeated. He ran his hand down Craig's back, slow, long strokes. "I will be right back." 

The vampire went into the bathroom and took off his boots and tunic. Dirt from the backyard had got onto his skin, not much, but enough that he could feel it. He ran the shower, soaped up his hands, stepped under the hot water. He got his hair clean, his body, until he could smell no more dirt or stink from the creatures that lived and died in the yard behind his house, all he could smell was the soap and his own body. It was satisfying to be clean. Punishing his pet had been satisfying, too.

He thought he would like his pet to wear a tail the next time he was a dog. And that thought made him realize he had yet to introduce Craig to the sensation of having something inserted into his ass. Drying himself off, the vampire pondered the best approach. A simple toy, probably, something from his collection, one of the smaller ones. It could be lubricated and inserted to teach his pet what he had in there. The vampire thought he would return to his bedroom and look over his toys to choose the right one.

When he went in, he heard snores. Of course, his pet had fallen asleep. A brief delight made the blood sing in the vampire's veins. Another punishment, so soon. It was a gift from fate. "Pet," he said, a low delighted growl filling his voice. The snores continued. 

He got the lubricant and poured a small amount of it onto the palm of his hand, then dabbed his index finger in it, getting it slick. He would wake Craig up with this. Not as part of the punishment, just because it would be fun. 

He slid his lubricated finger up and down the crack of the man's ass. Still he didn't wake. Pressing against the opening, the vampire pushed his finger in. Craig snorted and stopped snoring, his eyes opening wide. "What?"

"That's my finger in your ass," the vampire said. "I have to say, you're hungrier for punishment than I expected. I just finished spanking you and you're ready for another one."

"What?" Craig said again. The vampire thought he wasn't yet fully awake.

"Don't you remember? I told you. I'm sure I told you. You're allowed to fall asleep when you're a dog, pet. But when you're a man, Craig, sleeping earns a punishment."

"I, shit. I remember, your grace." Craig groaned. "That actually doesn't feel so bad?" he said hopefully. 

"My finger in your ass isn't a punishment," the vampire said, the corners of his lips twitching. He wiggled his finger. Craig squirmed. "I just thought it would wake you up." 

"I'm awake, I'm awake." 

"Mmm." The vampire pressed another finger into Craig's ass alongside the first. He was sure there had never been anything in here, not even a girlfriend's finger, he didn't think. Way too tight. It felt very good to him. "I was just thinking you needed to learn how it feels to have something up your ass." 

"I, I'm sorry I fell asleep, your grace. You don't need to punish me anymore."

"Of course I do. I think I'll make it simple, this time. But I'll let you worry about it for a little while first. Before we deal with that, it's time for breakfast." The vampire pushed a third finger into Craig's ass, and at the same time, pressed his mouth against Craig's neck, his fangs sliding into the skin. The taste of blood filled his mouth and pleasure flooded his mind past thought. 

Both of them fell into the ecstasy of the vampire's blood meal. The trickle of blood into the vampire's mouth was barely perceptible against the background of pleasure crashing into him in waves. Craig for his part jerked, climaxed, ejaculated and then climaxed again, and again, as if in a loop of time at the peak moment of intercourse. The vampire drank, Craig bled, they both rode a wave of bliss that seemed to last much longer than it really did, which was much longer than a human was meant to orgasm. Perhaps ten minutes of shallow bleeding, less blood given than the Red Cross would take, and the vampire eased his fingers out of the man's body before he stopped. 

Craig just lay there, limp. " **You won't fall asleep in the next five minutes** ," the vampire said, feeling it was kinder to make sure, feeling like being kind, for the moment. In the bathroom, he grabbed a box of self-sticking bandages, one of the better inventions of recent years, and a cotton ball soaked in rubbing alcohol.

He went back into the bedroom and put the lubricant away, closed up the wardrobe, and sat next to the man on the bed. In the afterglow of all the pleasure, the vampire felt tender toward the man. He lifted Craig's chin and gave him a deep, passionate kiss on the lips. "You were delicious," he said. "Are delicious." He dabbed the cut clean with the cotton ball, then put a bandage on over it. 

"What was that, how did it feel that good?" Craig asked. 

"Why, how good did it feel?"

Craig made a confused sound, then snorted. "Too fucking good, your grace."

The vampire smirked at the man. "So, it's time for your breakfast. How do steak and eggs sound?"

"Your grace, I'm so tired." Craig yawned. 

"First breakfast, then sleep," the vampire told him. He pulled Craig up off the bed and they went into the kitchen. "Cook yourself a steak, two eggs, and eat them up." 

Craig turned on the stove. The flames were barely visible, but the vampire felt their threat. He retreated to the edge of the kitchen, watching intently but keeping his distance as Craig prepared the food. 

It cooked fast. The scrambled eggs and rare steak were ready in only a few minutes. It was good, as there was not that much time left before dawn, and the vampire wanted the man safely stowed away for the day with a good margin of error. That was an important thing not to take risks over.

While Craig ate, the vampire set up his room in the basement. He carried a futon down for the man to sleep on. He filled a bucket of water, and carried that down, too, and a couple of clean towels. Then he took a little table down there with the pieces of chocolate. He wrote a note for them that said, _Remember if you eat the chocolate, you will be punished._ Four little Reese's cups and a Hershey bar went on the table next to the note. He left the celery down there, too. 

The vampire went back upstairs. Craig was eating the last of his breakfast. He had half a glass of water along with the food. "Good, you're eating the steak," the vampire said. "It's important to keep up your strength." 

"It's very good, if I do say so myself," Craig said. He ate the last bite of steak, then the last bite of eggs. "I'm actually still a little hungry," he admitted. 

The vampire pulled a cookie out of the package and handed it to the man. 

"Thank you, your grace," Craig said. He ate the cookie and drank the rest of the water, then sighed. "I'd really like some fruit."

The vampire shrugged. "We didn't buy any at the grocery store," he said.

The chamber pot was just a big bowl with a seat on it. It could be used for a human to eliminate in necessity. The vampire pointed it out to Craig when they went down to the basement. "This is you for the day," the vampire said. 

The room was dimly lit by an overhead fixture screwed tightly to the ceiling. The vampire showed Craig where the light switch was. It was a button halfway up the wall near the staircase. When the vampire turned the light off, the room was entirely dark except for a faint glow coming from the button itself. He pressed the button again and the light came back on. "Remember where everything is," the vampire warned. "The light is on a timer. When an hour passes, it turns itself off. You don't want to hurt yourself in the dark."

The vampire gestured, turning Craig's head to look at the futon laid out for him to sleep on, the bundle of celery, the bucket of water, the table with the candy. "Your bed, your lunch, your drinking and wash water, your temptation and invitation to a new punishment tomorrow," the vampire said, pointing at each item. " **You'll sleep well today and for as long as your body needs. You still want to fuck me as much as you've ever wanted anything in your life. Other than that, your mind is your own and your memories of this past night are clear.** Any questions?"

Craig looked around, nonplussed, chewing his lower lip. "Is this the punishment?" he asked.

The vampire barely smiled. In lieu of an answer, he said, "I'd like you to consider how you have talked about and thought about men and their sexual activity and how those apply to you. I'll be back to play with you tonight." The vampire put his foot on the bottom stair, then paused, returned to Craig. He stood very close, looking up into Craig's eyes, the shorter by several inches. Craig looked back, half afraid, half challenging. The vampire leaned forward, tilted his head back and kissed Craig on the lips. 

The man barely responded to the kiss. Undiscouraged, he vampire put his hand at the back of Craig's neck and deepened the kiss, prolonging it. He felt the man begin to respond, to kiss him back, and stopped. Removing the collar from the man's neck with a quick flick and snap, in a moment, the vampire was on the stair. "I like you very much, Craig," he said. "I hope this is only the first of many nights we will have together." Then he was up the stairs and locking the door behind him with a deep solid sound, more like a vault than a door in a private home.


	4. You Shall Be Kept Cag'd Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A change in point of view.

Craig slept deeply, for hours. When he woke, it was to darkness. His eyes were adapted to it, and still he could see nothing. He groped around, feeling the edge of the futon he lay on, the cement floor beneath it. 

He was in the Bishop's basement. The man who'd -- kidnapped him? Seduced him? Both? Craig wasn't sure. The man had said he would be called "your grace," and as far as Craig knew that meant he was either a Duke or a Bishop, or something like that. Since he was gay and couldn't get hard, Craig went with he was some kind of priest. So he thought of the guy as the Bishop.

A dim glow hovered, seeming to be a few feet away. That was the light switch. The most important thing was not to knock over the bucket of water. He crawled toward the glow, feeling carefully as he went for obstacles, for anything in the way. The only one he found was the edge of a table. He felt his way around the table and got to the switch, pushed it. 

The light came on. It wasn't bright, but it was a lot better than pitch darkness. He wondered what time it was, and whether he could figure out how to get out of here. 

He really had to piss. He was supposed to go in that thing, he remembered. He looked down into the chamberpot doubtfully. It was as good as going in a bottle, he supposed, and urinated into it. The stream made a faint ringing sound as it struck. Something about the action reminded him, with a sudden flush of shame, of playfully pissing on a bush in the Bishop's back yard last night, walking around on all fours at the end of a leash, enjoying himself playacting lifting his leg like a dog would. His gut clenched. If he didn't get out of here, he'd probably be doing that again soon, or some other fresh hell the Bishop thought up for him. 

He thought about what the guys always said, how they wanted women to be a lady on the streets and a freak in the sheets. That was the Bishop, all right, meek and normal out and about, freakier than an otaku cosplayer when he was at home. Craig was sure that was not what he wanted. He cringed as his cock twitched. No, he was not sure of that at all, in fact it was the opposite; the Bishop was exactly what he wanted. He just didn't want to want that. 

_If I escape, I'll never get to fuck him._ That was the thought that kept him pacing back and forth in the small room. _It's just one more night. I got through his freaky shit last night, I can do it again, and then I get to… probably get to fuck him. He said maybe, but I know that kind of maybe, it's a maybe that's a yes._

Craig kneeled down in front of the bucket of water, cupped as much as he could in his hands and drank. Did it again, two more times, until he wasn't thirsty. He took a deep breath, held it, let it out in a long slow sigh. 

There wasn't room to do every exercise, but he could do basic calisthenics. Pushups, sit ups, jumping jacks, all the things he remembered from his school days and the high school football team. No room for sprints, though. He lay down on the futon and bicycled his feet in the air. 

Vivid memories of the night with the Bishop kept intruding on his thoughts. Craig tried to put it out of his mind by thinking of something from before that. He instinctively shied from focusing on his sister and her kids, feeling as though in the situation it would contaminate them with what was happening to him, the wrongness of it. He tried to think about girls he'd been into, how the ones who were really into him had catered to him, how he'd done the same for the most attractive and self-confident of them. But somehow that all seemed far away and boring and he kept seeing the Bishop.

Him sitting back with his legs spread in the silk robe and his bare feet, not caring if his cock showed, because he wanted Craig to look at it. Him in the red tunic and high boots, bare underneath it, Craig unable to keep from trying to get a glimpse. The Bishop walking in the dark garden, a barely seen shadow beside Craig on all fours scrambling to keep up with his stride, feeling the crop's sting when he didn't. Him sitting with a dildo stuck to the floor between his legs, Craig feeling self-conscious about trying to give the hunk of plastic a blow job. The shame he'd felt at having fallen asleep. Waking up with the Bishop's finger in his ass. 

Craig tried to tell himself none of it was that bad. Being spanked? Kids could handle that, an adult ought to have no trouble at all. Sucking on plastic dildoes? He'd done worse as a frat pledge. Pretending to be a dog? He'd had fun with it for a while, hadn't he? Another thing that kids could do. It would be stupid to be afraid of something like that. He'd humped the Bishop's leg and liked it… that was a dumb prank too but not so bad. 

The dread in the pit of his stomach said differently, but he kept telling himself he had this. It was weird, but he could deal with it to get laid, he'd held girls' purses or told them they looked great in everything they'd tried on when he'd been on shopping trips with them. Catering to someone you wanted to fuck was just a thing guys did. 

He imagined the Bishop bent over like he'd been sucking that dildo on the ground, and Craig coming up behind him and jamming his cock in. With that thought Craig had a hard on and his hand was on it. He lay down on the futon and went to town, squeezing and jerking himself.

Before it got good, though, Craig's mind flashed to the Bishop washing him off after the fucked up game in the yard where he was looking for a dog toy in the dark. He lost his erection almost instantly. 

Who wanted to jack off in a creepy basement, anyway? Better off not to. He got up and paced, took another drink out of the bucket, paced some more. It was boring. He needed a television to watch, his phone to browse the web on. Someone talking or pushing words on a screen for him so this, this boredom would go away. 

He wasn't used to being alone with himself. Craig was tired of thinking about the Bishop. But there wasn't anything else to think about and there wasn't anything to distract himself with and he kept remembering crawling around in the yard in the dark, trying to keep up. That word -- ride'em? Something like that.

The Russian words he'd learned in the obedience training. He had to remember those. He couldn't remember them at all. Sisny, mokto? What were they again? The one for sitting, sounded like seedit, maybe? Or was that the one for come here? He felt himself panicking over not being able to remember. It was going to be bad if he couldn't remember. 

Craig tried to calm down. He paced faster, whispered to himself, "I'll remember, I'll remember. When it comes to it, I'll get it. It's just a few words." His heart was pounding. He tried to think about something else. "Those steak and eggs were good." He remembered how the Bishop had stayed back from the flames. "He was a little scared of me, then, I think. I could've thrown hot grease on him and got away, probably. He's strong for his size but I, if he was distracted, I could've." He felt a sense of loss at the thought. Getting away, sure, would be good, but not getting to fuck the guy, that would not. And if he stopped to fuck him, he'd be stuck again. 

Thinking was frustrating. Craig ground his fist against his forehead. The Bishop would definitely want Craig to fuck him tonight, because, he remembered, that would have to feel amazing, based on how it felt when the Bishop put his fingers in Craig's ass and wow, that had blown his mind. There was no way that should have felt that good, prostate or whatever, it was impossible, but it had happened. It was like an orgasm but twice as much and five or ten times longer. Like not just with his cock but his whole body. 

He couldn't tell how much longer he would be stuck in the basement, what time it was, afternoon or evening, when the door would open up and let him out again. It seemed like time was turning around on itself in here. The room was too small. He ate some of the celery to distract himself, drank some more water. 

After a while, when the celery was gone, Craig stared at the chocolate on its little table. Four mini Reese's Cups and a Hershey bar. Not the greatest chocolate, but pretty good. Steak and eggs for breakfast had been a long time ago. Celery and water wasn 't much of a lunch. He read the note again -- it was the only thing in the room to read. 

_Remember if you eat the chocolate, you will be punished._

And he didn't know what the punishment would be. The only thing he suspected was that it would be worse than the spanking last night. And that had been bad enough. 

He didn't even know what the punishment for falling asleep was. Something about today, he thought. When he had asked -- the Bishop had told him to think about what he'd said about gay guys. And whether this thing where he wanted to fuck the Bishop meant he was one. Craig didn't feel like thinking about that. "Maybe that _is_ the punishment," he said out loud. 

There was no way the Bishop would know what he'd thought about or not thought about. Unless he just asked, and Craig had no ideas, which would make it obvious he hadn't thought about it. So he had better try. Well, he'd said getting laid would be easy for gay guys. So far, it had been anything but easy for him, so that meant a big no on that count. He thought about other guys, his friends, movie star guys even. None of them sparked a bit of lust for him. It was just something about the Bishop. So probably he wasn't gay. Then again, he was here giving blow jobs and enjoying taking it up the ass more than actual sex, so maybe he _was_ gay? That would suck. 

That had to be enough thinking about that topic for a lifetime. 

But his mind skittered off toward remembering how much fun he'd had pretending to be a dog, for a while anyway, until it got scary crawling around in the dark and then uncomfortable as fuck being hosed down. But really fun for a while, playing, and humping the Bishop's leg was so good, damn. Maybe he wasn't just gay, maybe he was a gay _furry._ That would _really_ suck.

Now that he was thinking about other things, the Russian obedience words popped up in his head just fine. An enormous wave of relief flooded through him. Yes! He knew it. He remembered just fine. He picked up one of the Reese's Cups and unwrapped it thoughtfully. He was about to put it in his mouth when he remembered he wasn't supposed to eat it. "Shit." 

He sort of managed to get the wrapper back on it and put it back where it went. To keep himself from drooling over the chocolate, he went back to the bed and lay down again. After a while the light turned itself off, and he lay in the dark listening to his stomach rumble.

His thoughts were drifting sleepily when he heard the door. A jolt of adrenaline had him sitting up straight as light streamed into the dark room from the stairwell. "Craig?" the Bishop's voice called down.

"I'm still here, your grace." 

"Get upstairs now." 

\-------------

The Bishop had him shower and fix himself dinner. Craig felt almost normal, as normal as he could feel cooking a steak and potatoes in the nude. He stood back far enough to avoid being spattered by the grease from the skillet after the first time. It was awkward, but not that bad. The Bishop stayed away, doing something, the whole time. 

He ate the food and drank a couple of glasses of water. He had really been hungry. While he was washing the dishes and cookware, the Bishop came back and stood in the kitchen doorway, watching him. "Come to the bedroom when you're finished," he said, and left again. 

Craig felt a pang in his chest, a clenching of his stomach. His muscles tensed, making him drop the plate and then the skillet while washing them. He ended up standing in the doorway of the bedroom very soon after. "Here I am," he said.

"Reggie," the Bishop said, and the word that meant "come here." It wasn't the one that meant "sit," but it sounded a little similar. Craig didn't think too hard about what he was doing, found himself on hands and knees and crawling over to the Bishop without ever deciding he was going to do it. "You'll need these to be a better dog for me." There was a headband thing with pricked-up dog ears attached to it that the guy placed onto Craig's head. It was tight, the band pressing hard into his temples. 

"And your tail." The Bishop waved something furry in Craig's face. Fake fur, a plumy thing. It tickled his nose. Another Russian word, this one was the "stay" command, he thought. He kept still while the Bishop walked around him, even kept still -- though he yelped -- when the Bishop put a finger, then another into his ass. Then Craig felt something smoother and cooler than the fingers inside himself. It stayed, while the fingers did not. He felt the tail brush against his inner thigh. He turned to look at it over his shoulder. A tail, he thought, frowning. 

"And finally. To ensure obedience, you'll wear the shock collar." 

That seemed a step too far. He still had to pretend to be a dog. But he felt no compulsion to pretend to like the idea of a shock collar. Craig shook his head, growling. He backed away, putting himself in a corner of the room. 

The Bishop had the collar in his hands. He walked slowly toward Craig, who was sitting in a defensive position as best he could. "Now, Reggie. Be good, pup. This will only hurt you when you aren't being a good dog, you know. And you aren't going to be able to stop me from putting it on you." He didn't sound worried or angry. The best Craig could tell, he sounded somewhere between amused and paternal. It was a strange way to act, and he couldn't figure it out. But he couldn't figure the Bishop out in general. The guy liked really weird shit. This was just the weird shit that Craig wasn't going to have any of. 

Except he was. It was like one second the collar was in the guy's hand and between blinks it was on his neck. "Now, be-adam." That-- it was one of the Russian command words. Craig couldn't remember what it meant. How the fuck had the collar got on him anyway? He wanted to take it off but using his hands was too un-dog-like and he couldn't think how to take it off without them. He tried rubbing it against the bed. "Disobedient already?" A buzzing sound came out of the collar and then it shocked him.

The jolt felt like a static discharge, across the front of his neck. It -- wasn't that bad, all things told. It hurt, but not as much as he'd thought it would. The fear began to subside and be replaced with frustration, and at the same time he remembered, of course, that word meant 'heel' and he should be positioning himself next to the Bishop's leg. He did that. "Ah, good dog, Reggie." Craig yipped in response.

They went out in the yard and did more of the obedience training. Craig remembered the damn words just fine, but the Bishop wasn't playing fair with him in this game this time. The guy made new rules and didn't tell Craig till he'd screwed them up and got a shock from the collar. Like, don't get the tail dirty. That was hard when they were out in the dark yard and he had to 'sit.' The shocks weren't each one very bad, but they added up somehow. It got to the point where when he heard the buzz his whole body would tense up and try to get ready for the shock and it never worked, he was never ready. Tensing up like that probably made it worse, but he couldn't make himself stop.

Craig whined low in his throat and nudged the Bishop's knee with his cheek. He tried to do the cute dog thing, maybe get some sympathy or whatever out of the guy. He was trying! It was just fucking impossible! 

"Oh," the Bishop said, in a fake sympathetic voice, "Reggie, is something wrong?" 

Craig nodded emphatically and whined some more, put his hand on the guy's knee. 

"I can't imagine what might be wrong. I think," the Bishop said, and paused for several seconds, so that Craig started to wonder what he was thinking, running through several speculations before the guy continued, "it is time to take my dog to the vet." 

Craig was nonplussed. He had no idea what this meant, but it didn't really sound good. Then again, maybe he did need some kind of medical attention? Something was probably wrong with him for playing along with this game even as far as he'd done already. 

\------

He was in a box. There were thin slats he could see out of, and he looked, only seeing what looked like the Bishop's house. They weren't actually going anywhere. Craig had honestly expected to be taken to some kind of doctor or actual vet, but it didn't look like that was what was going to happen after all. The one silver lining was that the shock collar had been taken off.

The box opened and he crawled out. The Bishop had put on some kind of white doctor coat and they were in a room -- it looked like there used to be a window, but it was covered over, like all the walls were, with some kind of plastic. He was on a metal table. Once he'd emerged from the box, the Bishop took it -- somewhere else, fast. Craig didn't see where. It wasn't in the room anymore. 

Everything in the room was metal or painted a shiny white or some kind of slick plastic. It did look weirdly medical, especially the pole with a bag of some kind of fluid hanging on it and a tube attached to that. It looked like an IV setup, except Craig thought the tubes for IVs were a lot skinnier. He wanted to ask what was going on, but he was still supposed to be a dog. There was cold air on his skin and a slowly dawning fear inside him. What the fuck was happening to him?

The Bishop didn't give a clue. He snapped some kind of buckled things around Craig's wrists and ankles, though. Immobilized him to some extent, though since he was still on hands and knees on this table, he could probably move some. He could lie down, maybe. It would probably be damn uncomfortable, though. 

A sound -- he craned his neck and could see the Bishop opening what looked like a refrigerator. He pulled out a red and silver thing that looked a lot like a giant thermometer. Craig realized what was likely to happen a moment before the smooth end of it slipped into his ass next to the tail, uncomfortably stretching and even more uncomfortably cold. He yelped and tried to turn around, but it was impossible with the restraints. "Hold still, Reggie," the Bishop said, the first thing he'd said since they'd entered the room.

The cold started to ebb, but there was still something big in his ass and it felt weird, a little like needing to take a dump, but different. How long had it been since he'd done that, anyway? Two meals with steak might stop him up some. "Normal temperature," the Bishop said. "Let's take a look." Craig looked away as the guy pulled the thermometer out of him. It was kind of a relief when it was gone. A short-lived one.

Something else, just as cold as the thermometer had been, and not as smooth, was being pushed into him -- not next to the tail this time, but kind of around it. Craig looked back and couldn't quite see what it was-- something with some kind of weird handles, he thought. Then he felt his ass being stretched open. The tail fell out and clattered on the metal of the table, then onto the floor. At first it just felt weird, then it started to hurt. He whined, very high, doing his best to express the feeling as Reggie. Even now he was stuck on pretending to be a dog. He wasn't sure why but it felt very important to keep up the pretense, so he stayed with it even as the world narrowed to intensifying pain.

Just when he thought he was going to collapse and probably injure himself, the pain started to ease. Whatever that thing was came out with some discomfort but not as bad as it had hurt when it was fully stretching him open, at least. "Just some constipation," the Bishop said, sounding half cheerful, half disgusted. "A simple enema will take care of everything." He set the instrument and the tail aside in a small metal basin. 

The guy wheeled the thing with the hanging bag with its dangling tube over behind Craig and he felt the tube slipping into his ass. It was ribbed so he could feel each bump on it going in, eight or nine of them, the last one the biggest, though none of them hurt like the other thing had when it stretched him open. They just felt odd and a little uncomfortable, flexing inside him like they were doing. Then a cool, almost but not quite cold fluid began to flow into him. 

At first it felt kind of good, soothingly cool to his sore ring of muscle. It continued to feel good there, but in his gut it began to cramp. He made whimpering sounds, what he thought a dog would sound like if it had stomach cramps. The Bishop was too busy playing doctor to notice as far as Craig could tell. His arm started to shake as the cramp traveled to the muscles that were holding him up and had been for a while now in his upper arms and forearms. The metal basin rattled against the metal table. 

After a little longer, the cramps eased but then he felt a different kind of pressure. He needed to go, but he couldn't. " **You'll hold this in until I tell you to release it,** " the Bishop said, and he would. He had to. No way he was going to crap in front of the guy, he'd never get to fuck him then. But knowing that didn't make it any less the case that he really needed to go, and soon. 

Soon wasn't happening. Craig couldn't really struggle, not and keep the liquid in, and he had to keep it in. He moaned and almost forgot to try to sound like a dog when he did it. The Bishop kept up his doctor game, too, putting a chill metal circle thing on him in various places, walking around him and pretending to examine him, shining a light in his eyes and making him open his mouth really wide while he put a wooden spoon in there and pressed down on his tongue. 

It was all uncomfortable and made even more so by his increasing desperation to let the liquid out, void himself of it somewhere-- ideally a toilet where it could be safely flushed away and got rid of. The cramps came back at least three more times, accompanied by a mild but growing too-full, nauseated feeling that brought a nasty taste to his mouth, and he began to need to piss, too, which was only intensified by the Bishop prodding his balls. 

He whimpered when the guy brought out a big pair of clippers because he wasn't sure what was going to be pinched in those, and most things would hurt. But the Bishop simply used them to cut his toenails and then his fingernails shorter than he ever did himself, and while it stung quite a bit when he got the quick caught, it would have been nothing if it hadn't been for the fullness and cramps and nausea and the unbearable desperate need to _go._ Those, though, made each slow and careful clip feel agonizing. On the nails where the clippers were cutting too deep into the sensitive cuticle, the pain exacerbated the full feeling, the nausea, and all of it was so close to too much that more than once he had to swallow bile that came up into his mouth. Craig couldn't stop himself from counting down in his head how many nails were left to be clipped, in hope the ordeal was nearing an end.

Finally, the guy got the biggest basin and positioned it between Craig's ankles. He said the 'sit' command in Russian and unfastened two of the restraint belts, the ones that had been around each wrist. Craig squatted over the basin. He cringed at how easy it would be to let go like this and the Bishop would see it and he really hoped the guy would leave the room before that happened. But no, that wasn't what happened. The Bishop just stood there and said, "Release," and the liquid gushed out of Craig into the basin, rank smelling and horribly embarrassing even if he was only a dog at the time and shouldn't care, a dog wouldn't. But he did anyway. 

The Bishop stared at him, looking as disgusted as anyone ought to in a situation like that, even if he'd arranged it himself and should have expected it. The stuff burned a bit as it came out and Craig heard himself howl out loud, as mournfully as any dog would on being such a sick disappointment and also relieved at last.


	5. Sick and Faint with Many Wrongs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let's get out of here.

The enema had felt disgusting. It had been a struggle to hold the liquid in, awful to expel it into some kind of basin, the worst to clean up afterward which the Bishop had had him do as soon as he'd called him Craig and made him not be a dog anymore.

Craig had never been around an enema before, and was just as glad. One of the girls he'd dated had been into doing them for some reason, some messed-up website she read said they were good for you, but she'd always made him leave the apartment when she did it, which he was now in retrospect even more grateful for.

The Bishop had ended the game and had him clean the basin, the whole medical room, and then shower and get himself clean. It took a while before Craig felt fully human again. He thought it happened some time in the middle of the shower. It was a nice warm shower and just what he needed to go from a complete mess to basically himself once more.

Craig was in no mood to continue being a dog after that, and it was just as well the Bishop didn't ask him to. After the 'veterinarian' game was over and Craig had cleaned up, they went back into the main room with the couch and sliding glass door. Craig liked that almost-normal-looking room one hell of a lot more than the doctor office room, which he cordially wished consigned to a dumpster fire and then oblivion.

The Bishop had that same black suction cup dildo from the previous night in his hand. Craig didn't like that thing. It had been unpleasant to him; he'd had to suck on it more than was comfortable and, even worse, pick it up with his mouth. He frowned at it, lips twisting against his teeth.

"Now, Craig, is that how you greet our friend from last night? I'd like you to be nicer to this latex cock. After all, it'll be fucking you soon." The Bishop had a smile on his face that Craig didn't like one bit.

"That piece of plastic is no friend of mine," Craig said. "Sorry." Though he wanted to be obedient and act friendly to it, he also had to say what he was thinking and he wasn't thinking anything nice about that thing. 

The guy nodded, looking thoughtful. "I see. Let's fix that, then. Lick the back, Craig." He held out the suction part, and Craig licked it, making it slick with his saliva as he'd done the night before so that its suction cup would adhere well. The Bishop attached the dildo to the floor a couple of feet in front of the couch he liked to sit on, then went to sit exactly where Craig had expected him to. He tossed something to Craig, who caught it instinctively. "Put some of that on it, and then get down and fuck yourself with it." He paused, considering, and added, "Face me while you do. I want to see your expression. And, Craig. **You'll enjoy it fucking you. It will feel very good.** "

Craig looked down at the dildo doubtfully. He wasn't sure what position he'd have to get in to take that thing in his ass. And there wasn't much room between it and the couch. His face would practically be in the Bishop's crotch. He felt heat across his cheeks. That wouldn't be so bad, not at all.

He stood over it, legs wide apart, and began to squat down. The thing the Bishop had tossed to him was a tube of lubricant. He squirted a bunch of it onto his hand and slicked the dildo up well, then inched forward and got the tip of it at his entrance. He felt it was in the right place, and slowly sank onto it, balancing on his toes as his hips sank between his heels. His hands went forward for balance and he grabbed the Bishop's knees. He was afraid for a moment that he shouldn't have, but the guy's expression told him it was fine. Little by little he settled himself onto the dildo. It did feel good, surprisingly, much better than any of the other things that had been in his ass tonight. Not as good as the Bishop's fingers last night, though, nowhere near that good. He was hard, but not even close to coming.

"Now, fuck it until you come," the Bishop said.

So Craig tried. He slowly moved up and down on it, squatting lower then easing up, again, and again until his knees complained. Bracing his hands on the Bishop's knees, he tried it leaning forward some more, his face enticingly close to the guy's crotch, surging back and then slipping forward again, the dildo making awful slurpy sounds as it moved in and out of him in his now well lubricated ass. It did feel good, but not that good, not good enough to come. 

Craig thought he ought to try taking his cock in a fist, to make it go faster, but he didn't think the Bishop wanted him to, and he was afraid of what the guy would come up with for a punishment. So he didn't, at least not yet. His hand was inching in that direction, though, when he heard the buzzing sound the shock collar made. Even though it wasn't around his neck anymore, his body jerked involuntarily at the sound. The dildo slipped entirely out of him with the unexpected motion.

"Oh, pet." The Bishop sounded really pleased for some reason. "I think you miss your collar."

"No, I really don't," Craig said. He was trying to get the dildo back in his ass. It kept slipping down and rubbing on his balls instead, as he tried to get himself back into position. 

"Hmm. Your body misses it. I could tell by how you reacted when you heard its call. Hold still a moment." The damn shock collar was right there on the end table. The Bishop picked it up, carefully centering the shock bits on the front of Craig's throat, and buckled it on firmly. "Now, thank me for returning your collar to its proper place."

Craig hesitated. 

The collar buzzed and shocked him. He jerked again; the dildo, still not in him properly, slapped against his balls. 

"Thank me whether you wanted it on or not, Craig," the Bishop said, his voice low and dangerous sounding. 

"Thank you, your grace," Craig managed to get out. He felt a slow growing resentment of the situation he was in. The dildo wouldn't go back in his ass, the fucking shock collar was back, and he was nowhere near coming. And his legs and knees were sore from squatting. He reached back behind him and got the dildo back in, pressing down on it with a hint of relief. It did feel very good. 

"That's a good pet," the Bishop said silkily. He lifted one of Craig's hands from his knee and brought it to his face. Craig braced himself with the other hand, leaning more of his weight on it and managed not to slip. He resumed moving himself further onto and partly off of the dildo again, sliding it inside himself and then easing off it, enjoying the friction of it in his ass and the kisses the Bishop was pressing against his palm, too. 

When the guy wrapped his lips around Craig's middle finger and pulled it into his mouth, Craig felt a hot stab of arousal in his groin. This was more like it. The guy's mouth was surprisingly cool around his finger, but it still warmed him from the inside out. He moved faster, but carefully, not letting the dildo slip out, not letting his finger slip out of the guy's mouth, either. 

The Bishop's other hand, the one not holding Craig's hand to his mouth, came up and caressed the side of Craig's face. His fingers pressed against Craig's lips. Craig tried to hold his head more steady, despite his hips not stopping their movement, so it was easier for the Bishop to keep hold of his face. All four fingers of the Bishop's hand pressed to Craig's lips, then into his mouth. He sucked them in greedily. They barely filled his mouth. He felt them against his tongue and teeth. 

The buzzing sound came, this time followed by the shock, his body already reacting before the sensation hit. He managed to keep the dildo in his ass, but his hand came away from the Bishop's face, thrown out to the side and grabbing the guy's knee again after. "No teeth, pet," the Bishop said.

Craig tried his best to keep his teeth away from the Bishop's fingers. He earned himself two more shocks before he managed to find a rhythm of moving up and down on the dildo while holding his mouth open far enough and getting his tongue in the right position so the guy's fingers never touched his teeth. He missed having his finger in the guy's mouth, too, but he needed both hands to keep himself going, so it probably was for the best that the Bishop didn't seem to want to suck on his finger anymore. 

The friction against his prostate was maybe starting to get him close enough to come. He wasn't focused on it, he was focused on not getting another shock, and that might be somehow helping because he was feeling closer and closer to a climax. Then because he was trying to go faster and get himself over that edge, he slipped just a little and felt his teeth touch the Bishop's pinkie. Craig heard the buzz, flinched and got another shock -- more painful than the last one -- and he felt the once-near climax slip away. He wasn't close at all anymore. He groaned with frustration. 

He kept moving on the dildo, and it still felt good, but it started to hurt at the same time. He was rubbing himself raw despite the lubricant. His fingers clenched tighter on the Bishop's knees as he made himself continue, slower, but not stopping. 

The Bishop pulled his hand out of Craig's mouth. "You're doing very well, pet," he said softly. "Would you like me to touch you? Take your cock in my hand and help you along?"

Craig would like that very much. "Yes, your grace." He slowed still more, to make it easier for the guy to grab him. His cock definitely could use some attention. He was sure it wouldn't take long to come with that kind of help.

But the Bishop didn't make a move. His hands stayed still at his sides. "Beg, then, pet. Beg me for what you want."

Craig wasn't completely sure what the guy meant, but he might as well give it a try. "Your grace, I beg you to." 

The guy's smirk made it clear that wasn't exactly what he'd had in mind. "You can do better than that, Craig."

He wasn't sure he could, but, he was getting so tired of this, even though it felt kind of good, it was hurting more than it felt good -- hurting his feet, hurting his ass, muscles burning with the effort of the squats, knees killing him. The pleasure ebbed behind the increasing discomfort. "Please, your grace. I don't think I can come without your help, please I beg you help me come, put your hand on my cock and stroke it, squeeze it, touch it and I'll be so grateful, I'm begging you." Was that enough begging? He hoped so.

"A little better. Tell me how desperate you are for my touch. Tell me how undeserving you are of it and how much you need it anyway. Beg as humbly and with as much adoration as you can muster for me."

"I need it so bad, your grace. This is so frustrating and I'm doing it only to please you, only so you'll let me fuck you, because you're so amazing, I want you so much, more than anything, ever, more than I can even put in words. I'm a terrible guy and probably a gay furry and can't even figure out what I want anymore or what I am, a man or a dog or a total idiot and you're the hottest and best and please just touch me?" The words tumbled out of his mouth free-form and embarrassing and horrible and too true. "Please, soon, look at me fucking myself on a piece of plastic for you, wearing a fucking shock collar because you want it, doing whatever you want just for a chance to someday get to fuck you. Please, I'm begging, please, your grace." 

Finally it was enough and the guy's hand was on his cock and rubbing, fast, it hurt and it felt good and he came all over it after maybe four jerks because he was exhausted and lost and needier than he thought he'd ever been before. It wasn't a super orgasm like the one when the Bishop's fingers had been in his ass, but it was intense anyway and it looked like a lot more spurted out of him than he thought there was when he masturbated. Craig's balls felt sore and empty when he was done, and his legs were trembling and couldn't hold him. He slipped back onto the dildo, inadvertently pressing it deeper into himself than he had before, and that hurt more than he expected it to. He pulled off it and basically collapsed onto the floor.

He lay there for only a few seconds before the fucking shock collar went off. Somehow he pulled himself up to his knees, swaying, exhausted. "Sorry, your grace." 

"You weren't trying to go to sleep, were you, pet?"

"No, your grace. I was… I kind of lost control of myself there." Craig shook his head. "Thank you for helping."

"For taking you in hand, yes. And for shocking you so you would not fall asleep. It was kind of me." The Bishop had a gleam in his eye. "Come, pet. Sit at my feet, put your head in my lap. Rest, but do not sleep."

Craig turned around and leaned back against the guy's legs. His body felt sore and limp. He was sure he could fall asleep very easily, but he was afraid of what might happen if he did. Carefully he leaned his head against the Bishop's knee and pressed his cheek into the bony part, so it wasn't too comfortable. That might be enough to keep him awake.

There was a span of silence. Craig wondered if the Bishop would speak at all, or if he would simply wait for Craig to nod off so he could play one of his games about it, shock him or punish him or, both probably. He somehow managed not to, though it was a close thing.

"You know, pet, it's not really equitable that I am doing all the hard work of coming up with ideas," the Bishop said, when Craig had almost been willing to break the silence himself with some kind of inane remark. He felt relieved he hadn't. 

"I'm not sure my ideas are your kind of thing, your grace. We could watch a game. Or stream something. Maybe you'd like Game of Thrones?" He tried to think what shows had more beefcake, though. "Or the 300? Lot of half naked guys in that, I think." 

The Bishop's hand ruffled Craig's hair. "Not what I had in mind. You've seen enough of what I like, now. You must have ideas of what else I would like to do with you. Tell me what comes into your mind. Don't concern yourself with your own desires, only mine. What do you think would please me?" 

The first couple of things that he'd seen on the edgier porn shows or heard the freakier girls he'd dated talking about fell right out of his mouth. "Sucking on your toes, or like, putting your whole fist in my ass," he said, his ass hurting just thinking about the second one. The first one didn't sound too bad. 

"How quaint," the Bishop said. "I might allow you to suck my toes as a treat some time, pet. As for fisting, you are not ready for it yet, but certainly it's something I've done and enjoyed. Continue, then."

"Ah," Craig said, fishing for more ideas. It apparently was, as the guy had claimed and Craig hadn't a few moments ago believed, hard work to think up perverted things to do. Who knew? He remembered a girl with little barbells through her nipples and belly button and eyebrow. "Piercings?" he ventured. It wasn't like the Bishop had any. But maybe he'd be into it.

Craig saw that he was. Licked his lips like he was hungry, in fact. Just seeing that predatory desire on the guy's face made Craig's cock stir. He hadn't realized it had been nearly long enough after that climax he'd just had. It didn't get hard all the way or anything, but even that it could be interested so soon surprised him. 

"Yes," the Bishop said finally. "Perfect. A reward for your idea. I'll give you something valuable, pet. Stay here." He got up and went into his bedroom without a backward look. Craig stayed on the floor where he was, leaning against the couch, keeping himself awake and trying not to think about the medical room. Or the yard. Or the fact that he still had the shock collar on. Trying not to think about a whole wide range of things he didn't want to think about. At least they kept him awake.

He heard water running, and then the Bishop came back into the room. He had a damp cotton ball in his hand, and a small gold earring set with a ruby. "The only reward I want, your grace," Craig said before he could think better of it, "is to be allowed to fuck you. Please, your grace." 

The little smirk on the Bishop's face was a relief because it meant Craig hadn't made him angry. "Yes, pet. As soon as I have this in your ear, in fact."

Hope filled him immediately. "Thank you! Your grace, thank you, thank you." He was babbling. He managed to stop and add, "In my ear?" Craig had expected it somewhere more -- sensitive.

The Bishop paused, then said slowly, "You know I enjoy hurting you, I think." 

Craig nodded. He had figured that out around the time of the spanking the night before, though he'd had inklings even earlier.

"Yes. I do. I can imagine you pierced so many places. Your nipples, your tongue, your cock, your scrotum. I will have you bristling with jewels in time. Every one of them pressed through your flesh slowly and without mercy while you choke on your screams. For now, though, only your ear. **You will suffer quietly and not scream.** And then I will allow you your pleasure." The Bishop's voice was sensual and velvety and Craig shuddered in anticipation and dread and eagerness that he wasn't sure which was which anymore.

The guy wiped the cotton ball firmly across Craig's earlobe, front and back, and he saw that the gold post of the earring tapered to a point wrapped around by a screw, and that the backing had a matching threading to attach firmly. At least he wasn't going to get an infection, he thought irrelevantly. He braced himself as the Bishop pressed the earring back against the back of his ear and just started pressing the post against the front, twisting it as it pierced his skin. 

It stung at first and burned and then started to really hurt, a stabbing as it went into his flesh and then a tugging sharp ache as it bit in further. Screwing an earring into his ear really did make him want to scream. He groaned, instead, the sound seeming sexual to Craig though it didn't feel that way at all. He was limp and unaroused but he sounded like he was coming hard, what with all the moans and groans and whines his throat was making, nothing like a dog's and more like some kind of horny agony. He really hadn't expected his fucking earlobe to hurt this much. It was worse than the thing in his ass had been, if less humiliating, and he would have pulled away except he was afraid his earlobe would come clean off if he tried it. Each turn burned and stabbed and stung and just plain hurt a little more. 

When the earring broke through the back the hurt began to subside as his earlobe started throbbing. Craig's pulse thundered in his ear as he finally quieted, his throat sore from the sound he'd been making. "Now, pet, I'm almost done. That didn't hurt nearly as much as it will when I have to put one all the way through your tongue, you know." Craig's body shuddered involuntarily at the thought, pulling painfully on the earlobe. "Hold still, Craig."

It was done, the backing screwed on tight, and it still hurt, though not like it had while it was twisting through his flesh. Craig breathed in deeply, trying to keep from spilling the tears that had come unwelcome to his eyes. 

The Bishop flicked at the earring with his fingers, making it throb. "Bedroom, now, pet," he said. He led the way. There was a haze of red in Craig's mind, one that was full of pain and anticipation and hope. This was it. He was finally going to get to fuck the Bishop, have his cock in that ass he wanted so much, and it was going to be so good. If only his ear didn't hurt so much, he would have been floating in bliss, he thought. Even with it, he felt almost good. 

The guy had, Craig thought purposely, let the back of his tunic ride up so the lower curve of his ass was right there for Craig to look at. He ate it up with his eyes. 

The Bishop stopped, standing next to the bed. "On your knees behind me, pet," he said. Craig went to his knees, looking right at that ass, so close to his face he wanted to bury his nose in it. It seemed like the guy had the same idea. "Use your tongue to get me ready, Craig," he said softly. "Get me wet and slick for your cock." Craig was more than happy to oblige. 

The guy's asshole was drier than a desert and tasted like dust. Nothing had been here in a long time, Craig thought with surprise as he dabbed around it with his tongue. He thought in mild surprise how reluctant he'd been to do this with girls who'd wanted him to. Rimming, he'd been afraid or grossed out and he couldn't even remember why. This was great. He was so close to the promised bliss and he wanted to taste it and wallow in it and enjoy this. 

Craig sucked saliva into his mouth and pressed it into the Bishop's ass with his eager tongue. He licked and kissed and licked again and sucked and kissed until the dryness was gone, and the saliva was as wet as the lube had been in his own ass when he'd fucked the suction cup dildo. "You're ready, your grace," he said when he thought he'd done the best he possibly could.

The Bishop reached around and touched his own ass with a fingertip, lightly. "Yes, pet, you did well," he said. "On the bed with you, on your back. Make your cock ready for me." 

Craig got on the bed and lay down, his hand stroking his cock slowly, already hard enough but making sure he was at a perfect peak of erection. The guy watched him, then straddled his body, crouched over him chest-to-chest, the guy's face nestled into the crook of Craig's neck. He was kissing and licking Craig's throat and it felt incredible already, even before he felt his cock press against the guy's opening at long last.

This had been such a long and arduous task to get to this point. Craig felt he'd earned it many times over, this reward, and his whole body ached for it like he'd never wanted anything so much in all his life. The teasing was unbearable and yet so sweet as the opening pressed, then pulled away, pressed again on the tip of his cock before the pressure started to close around him.

He had expected warmth; there was none. The Bishop's body was cool inside and cool on top of him too, the lips cool against his neck, the chest cool against his chest. It didn't matter. Craig burned hot enough for them both as his cock slid tantalizingly slowly inside the saliva-slick hole. So much tighter than he had expected and yet the perfect tightness, he almost wanted to come already it felt so good, but he knew he had better not. He had to make this last, because he had no idea what it would take to earn another such gift, and even in the midst of the glorious victory he feared what would be asked of him when he, inevitably, wanted this again. 

It felt so good as he slid in, until he was buried to the balls in that amazing tight ass. He pulled out again slowly, halfway, then thrust harder in. The Bishop had no words to tell him how to do this; he was letting Craig take the initiative for once and his mouth was exploring Craig's neck, nibbling and licking there as though he thought it the most delicious treat, and Craig felt for a moment that that was the truth; that there was for once some kind of mutual desire between them. He didn't care but he believed it anyway. Increasing his speed and force gradually with each thrust, he built steadily toward greater and greater pleasure than he had thought his body capable of. As he was almost ready to come, the nibbling on his neck turned to biting and he felt the Bishop sink teeth hard into his throat. At that moment he started to come.

It was like the night before with the guy's fingers in his ass, but four or five times as intense, and longer, too. It felt like an hour of nothing but climax after climax until he was exhausted and weak and completely wrung out with pleasure and yet it kept going. Craig was sure he blacked out entirely at some point from the sheer intensity of it. For once something he'd wanted so much was actually more than he had expected from it, rather than a disappointment in the attainment. He was sure he'd fall asleep when this was over and he didn't even care what punishment the Bishop would come up with, it hardly mattered when this was the way it came. This was enough to justify anything.

\----

He woke up in the basement on the futon in the dark. Craig only knew where he was because of the little glowing light switch that was the only thing he could see. He felt weak and faint and then the door opened up and he could see light. A voice called down to him. "Craig? Are you down there? We need to get out of here."

It was, he tried to remember because the voice was familiar. Michael, that was the name. He groaned and rolled off the futon and stumbled to his feet. His clothes were in a pile next to the table. Craig pulled the pants and t-shirt on and the football jersey over it, then slipped his feet into his shoes. He stumbled at the foot of the stairs. He felt weak and hungry and thirsty, but he managed to climb to the top of the stairs where Michael held out a hand to him. He put all his weight on the man and leaned on him as they made it out of the house and to the car. His car, he saw, the morning sunlight hitting it so that it sparkled dark red. The color reminded him of something, but he wasn't sure what just yet. Something … important?

"We have to get out of here before he gets back," Michael said. 

Craig nodded, not sure what was going on, but it seemed like Michael knew what he was doing. He got in the passenger seat and let Michael drive because he still felt dizzy and weak. Michael didn't seem to object. He handed Craig a bottle of orange juice from the drink holder. It was already open and a few sips had been taken, Craig noted distantly as he guzzled it down. He felt much better after drinking it. "Thanks."

Michael drove home, Michael's home that was, and handed Craig the keys. "Bye, Craig," he said. "It was real." He sounded dismissive, not nearly as eager and urgent as he had before. Craig didn't really think too hard about it, though. He had no questions. He was just ready to get home and get some more sleep. He was still pretty tired.

Soon enough he'd followed the GPS's directions to his own house, got inside and collapsed into bed. His ear was sore and his ass was sore and he had a lot of whole body achy muscles, but he was so tired it didn't matter. He was asleep fast, and when he woke up, it was evening. 

Great, Craig thought. It's going to be a pain tomorrow at work. Maybe I'll just have dinner and then take a Benadryl and see if I can get back to sleep before I have to wake up already. He turned on the television for company and half watched a football game while he fixed himself a Caesar salad and spaghetti and peeled an orange to eat while the pasta was cooking. There was a steak in his refrigerator, but for some reason he wasn't in the mood for it at all.

Something had happened. Something big but he didn't want to think about it. His mind shied away from all the memories. Maybe he'd got really drunk and blacked out. Not exactly, but it's what he'd tell people, he thought. It made more sense that way.


	6. Rob the Adorned World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Epilogue.

_Craig didn't remember this, because the vampire had compelled him to forget._

"I think I would have enjoyed this weekend so much more if we'd had an appreciative audience," the Bishop had said. He seemed to be talking to himself more than to Craig. "Next time, I think, you should invite a friend. You'll have to find someone who would like to see you that way. Desperate, begging, suffering, willing to do anything for a touch, impaled on a dildo. I think a bigger one, next time. 

"I could have you give him blow jobs, too. Make you choke on his cock, swallow his semen. I really do want to see you choking on a real cock, Craig. Those lips of yours, they're wasted on a piece of plastic, as you told me last night."

"I don't think I said that, your grace." Craig shuddered. "I don't know anyone who's into your weird shit, I don't think. I'm sorry." He was sorry, because he didn't want to disappoint the guy, but he was also relieved, because it sounded awful. He didn't want to give some other man a blow job, not ever. He didn't even really want to give one to the Bishop except that it might get him in the mood. Craig honestly had no desire to have a cock in his mouth, other than that goal. But, if another guy watching him would be the thing to get the Bishop to want to be fucked by Craig, it'd be too bad if he couldn't find one.

"Fortunately, I told that app I put on your phone that you were looking for such a man. It can find almost anything, I think." The Bishop petted Craig's head with his hand, slow caresses over his hair and the back of his neck. 

Craig shivered with pleasure and also something else. 

He didn't like the sound of what the guy had said he put into some app. The one that had found that guy who had his car, right? Michael? It was weird, he thought, that he had almost forgotten about that guy. He couldn't mention him, though. He wasn't supposed to. "I don't know about that,your grace."

" **Once every week, you'll open the app and choose someone who has sent you a message on the app. You'll meet him and do something sexual with him and if you think he will like it, tell him about something we did, something you didn't like to do but that you did to please me. When you come back for our next night together,** " and the Bishop named the date, two months and a little more away, " **you'll bring whichever one you think will please me most.** "

"Your grace, I thought about it. I don't want to fuck any men but you." Craig had to explain his objection to this plan. 

"No, you don't. But you will do it." The Bishop petted his head again. "Because I want it, and you want to please me."

_On the appointed date, the reunion would take place, as planned. Whether Craig had found the appreciative audience the vampire had compelled him to seek out, that and what then transpired will have to wait for another monstrous tale to be told, as this one has now reached its end._


End file.
